You Fall In Flame
by FictionalNutter
Summary: AU following 8x23. Dean has a dying brother to take care of, and his favorite angel is MIA. With the host of Heaven fallen and Hell under new management, Dean has a lot of problems on his hands. Thankfully, someone upstairs cares enough to make sure he has the people on hand he really needs. Pairings: Destiel and others.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

**I desperately need to channel myself into a post-Sacrifice fic, so this was born. Be warned, I am listening to "Stars" from Les Miserables on repeat while writing this. You can blame livelongandspocker on Tumblr for that, since it was her post that made me connect the two. Anyway, this is not at all what I expect to happen in season 9, fair warning, this is just my outlet to put everything I want to happen in one place, and we'll see where it goes.**

* * *

**Chapter 1 - There, Out In The Darkness**

It was heard to tear his eyes away from the sky, but eventually Dean managed to do so. He unceremoniously dragged Sam into the backseat of the Impala, trying not to dwell on the fact that Sam wasn't even capable of offering resistance at this point.

Jumping behind the wheel, Dean held his face in his hands for a second, breathing deeply to calm himself. Sam was dying. Castiel was either dead or fallen, along with the rest of the angels. They might all be down for the count now. Clearing his throat gruffly, Dean turned the keys in the Impala and viciously turned the car away from the church.

In the back of his mind wiggled the notion that it might be worth his while to deal with Crowley, but Dean couldn't bring himself to care about the mostly human demon at this point. Worrying about Sam, Castiel, and all of Heaven was more than enough on his plate right now.

Sam was mostly catatonic by the time Dean managed to reach the bunker. He had driven for a solid eight hours, not stopping even once. He had given the key to Kevin, who he desperately hoped had actually stayed put, otherwise they were screwed.

Dean carried Sam awkwardly, his taller brother a heavy weight in his arms. Reaching the door, Dean knocked harshly, banging out a rough rhythm on the metal.

The door flew open, and Kevin's panicked face greeted him. "What the hell, Dean?" He blurted.

Dean pushed past him, ignoring the prophet for the time being. He reached a couch free of any debris from their lives and laid his brother down as gently as he could. "Dammit," he muttered. How the hell do you treat someone dying from failing to close the gates of hell? As far as Dean knew, that wasn't even possible. Castiel might have been able to help, but he was probably gone for good.

"Dean, seriously, please tell me what's going on." Kevin begged, his eyes wide as he took in the clearly bad situation that he had just let in the door.

"What's going on, Kevin, is that every angel in the damned sky just fell from Heaven, including Cas, as far as I know. What's going on is that you really should be on your ass translating that freaking angel tablet in the hopes that we can somehow salvage what that bastard Metatron just did to Heaven. What's going on is that Sam is dying, and I can't fix him." Dean stood there, fuming at Kevin, who was staring at him slack jawed.

Recovering finally, Kevin just nodded. "Angel tablet. I'm on it. Let me know if you need anything." With that, Kevin ducked into the bunker's library.

Sighing, finally allowing himself to breathe, Dean felt a little guilty for snapping at Kevin. It wasn't the prophet's fault that all hell had broken loose...or, rather, that all Heaven had rained down. It was the Heaven thing that was getting to him now. He didn't really care about the rest of the angels, although he did feel bad for them, as a general concept. He was petrified for Castiel though. His angel, because, yes, dammit, Castiel was his angel, had gone to confront either Metatron or Naomi, Dean wasn't sure which. Based on the outcome though, he knew who the true enemy had been. Metatron had enacted his revenge on Heaven, and Dean was positive that Castiel was dead. Why would Metatron have let his pawn live?

Sinking into the seat opposite his catatonic brother, Dean squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to get his emotions in check. He was the only one who had come out of this night unscathed, and it was up to him to try and fix everything. Well, he had Kevin. That was something.

The sudden outburst of AC/DC startled Dean, and it took him a beat longer than usual to figure out that his cell phone was ringing. He held it up to his ear, but his "Hello?" wasn't really full of commitment to the idea of having a conversation.

"Dean? Thank God. What the hell just happened, dude?"

Garth. Figures.

Dean took a deep breath before responding. "Angels. They all fell, Garth, every single one of them. As long as I'm giving you the updates, we left Crowley mostly human in a church in the middle of nowhere, there's a knight of hell running around loose, and Sam's mostly dead. That's been my day, how're you?" He said the last part sarcastically, the only defensive mechanism he was really able to use at this point.

Garth didn't respond for a minute. "All of the angels?" He finally asked.

"All of them," Dean confirmed. "Well, except Metatron," he amended. "He's the damn angel that caused this. Revenge on Heaven."

"What about, you know..." Garth trailed off, but Dean knew what the question was.

"He either killed Cas, or Cas fell with the rest of them. Either way, he's gone," Dean spat out, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. Garth hadn't known Castiel, but anyone who spent any time around Dean knew how important the angel was.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Garth offered, but his voice was too timid to hold any real comfort.

"Yeah, Garth, thanks," Dean replied weakly, losing his ability to keep any semblance of confidence in his tone. "Let me know if you hear anything? Anything...about anything. Just, you know, keep me updated?"

"Of course, Dean," Garth responded immediately. "Is Kevin with you guys?"

"Yeah, the prophet's with me," Dean affirmed tiredly.

"Alright, that's good. Get some sleep, Dean. You sound wrecked." Garth sounded sympathetic, but he hung up before giving Dean a chance to respond.

Dean moaned and leaned back in the chair. He couldn't bring himself to get up and go to his bed, although half of his mind reasoned that it might be wise to move Sam to his own bed, rather than the couch.

Yeah, Sam should be in his bed.

Dean sighed and stood, roughly lifting his brother again, not even able to react to the fact that Sam seemed completely unaware of the movement.

Setting him down on the bed that was amazingly a perfect size for Sam, Dean tucked him in and went to get a glass of water, leaving it by Sam's bedside. It was all he could think to do.

Tired and discouraged, Dean moved to his own bed, collapsing and losing consciousness before he'd even made the decision to do so.

* * *

Castiel was on his knees, head turned Heavenward, tears falling down his cheeks as his brethren had fallen from the sky. The light show caused by the Heavenly host was over now, but Castiel couldn't bring himself to move. If he left this spot, this position of penance, somehow it would be even more real.

His brothers and sisters would all be fallen.

Metatron would be ruling Heaven alone.

Castiel would be human, and the only angel left with his true memories.

There was even a possibility that Sam Winchester was dead by now, which hurt Castiel to consider. He had no idea if Dean had made it in time, and no clue where to look to find out.

Something in the back of his mind told him to go to Kansas, where he knew the Winchesters had their bunker, but he still couldn't move. This was his fault. His family were all stranded on Earth, mere shells of their former selves. It was his fault, wasn't it? He had allowed Metatron to use him! Just because he didn't know that he was performing the spell to cast out his entire family didn't mean he wasn't to blame. It had even been his own grace used to complete the spell!

This hurt more than any other realization. The other angels had fallen from Heaven while still attached to their grace. That meant that the grace of every angel who had fallen was on Earth somewhere. Except for Castiel. Metatron had used up his grace, and there was no hope of ever having it restored. Perhaps he could help restore some of his siblings, but he could never again be his true self.

This was his penance. He could kneel here before the sky where he had witnessed his mistake come to pass, and he could weep for the loss of his family. He could mourn his own inability to ever be an angel again, but that was what he deserved now. Instead, he would weep for his family, not himself. He would even weep for Sam, because the odds of the younger Winchester still being alive were slim.

The niggling in the back of his mind urging him to go to Kansas grew stronger, and Castiel found it harder to ignore. Kansas meant potentially finding Dean, which would mean happiness for him. He didn't deserve anything remotely close to happiness, and he had hurt Dean more than he had ever intended, both in the past and recently. Odds were that the hunter probably didn't even want him, especially as the destroyer of Heaven yet again, and so Castiel would stay away.

As the evening passed and morning arrived, Castiel maintained his vigil, but human needs became pressing and aggravating. Yes, he was now susceptible to this human life, this mortal coil. That meant using the bathroom, eating, drinking, and even taking showers. He wasn't necessarily adverse to these actions, but he knew with a sinking certainty that every human action he performed would only serve to remind him of his mistake and his penance. Perhaps this too was what he deserved.

Regardless, Castiel couldn't seem to just stay in one spot and starve to death or explode from the needs of his bladder. Unfortunately, he was going to have to care for himself before returning to his place of mourning. It was a short walk to the highway, where he only had to follow the road a few miles to find a gas station. He used the bathroom first, then eyed the rows of packaged food with a hunger he had never truly experienced. When Famine had caused him to desire burgers, that had been Jimmy's compulsion, not Castiel's, so the feeling had been largely ignored by the angel, other than sating his vessel. Now, Castiel strongly desired anything edible, and it was with a sinking feeling that he realized he had no money. It wasn't as though he could get some either, he was no longer in possession of his powers.

"You alright, buddy?" The cashier asked. It was an older gentleman, with a friendly face.

Castiel shook his head automatically, thinking of a big picture answer to the question. No, he was far from alright. Tearing your family from their home tended to have that effect.

"Can I help you?" The cashier asked tentatively.

It was then that Castiel realized that this man was not privy to the world altering events that had reshaped Castiel's own universe. This man only wanted to help the former angel in this moment itself. "I do not believe so," he finally answered the man. "My problem seems to be hunger. I have not eaten..." he paused before deciding on, "in a very long time. Unfortunately, I do not seem to possess any currency, so I believe I am wasting your time." Castiel made to move to the doorway, intending to find something to eat in the forest he had come from, but the cashier stopped him.

"Hey, relax. I know how it is to be down and out. Here, this was for my lunch break, but you can take it." The cashier held out a bag that smelled like it had some kind of sandwich and possibly chips inside.

"I could not take your own food," Castiel protested, confused by the gesture.

"Don't worry about it. I can afford to pay the store back for a hot dog or something." The cashier vaguely gestured in the direction of the small grill, then held the bag out again. "Seriously, take it."

Castiel finally nodded and took the offered bag. "Thank you, sir," he said gratefully.

"No problem, buddy. Do me a favor and pay it forward, you know? Do unto others and all that." The cashier grinned and waved him off.

Castiel nodded in agreement and left the gas station, almost smiling to himself. Humanity never failed to surprise him. Castiel had intended to return to the forest right away after fixing his human urges, but he now sat down on a bench and ate, watching cars go by on the highway. When a driver pulled into the station and got out of his truck, Castiel took a chance and asked him where exactly they were, citing a poor sense of direction when the man looked at him funny.

"This is highway 24, my friend," the man informed him with a lazy voice. He was wearing ratty jeans and a holey t-shirt, so he didn't seem like the type to put a lot of effort into anything. "That God-forsaken mess of trees over there is Glen Elder State Park. Ringing any bells?"

Castiel was aware of what a state park was, but that still didn't tell him where he was. "What's the closest city?" He asked.

The man rolled his eyes. "You're pretty out of it, aren't you, dude? You're about an hour out from Concordia and Lebanon, depending on which was you go."

The latter name rang a bell in Castiel's mind, but he was not entirely sure why. It seemed as though his memories were intact, but his processing power had diminished somewhat. "The state?" He asked.

The man looked at Castiel like he was nuts. "Are you drunk?" He demanded.

"I am not inebriated, no," Castiel informed him.

"Pity. Beer might clear that clouded noggin of yours. Alright, mister no sense of direction, this is Kansas, United States of America, planet Earth. That enough detail for you?" The man rolled his eyes, lounging against the gas pump he had temporarily forgotten about.

Castiel had frozen. Lebanon, Kansas. No wonder it sounded familiar. Assuming the elder Winchester had gone back there, Castiel was only an hour from Dean. An hour from the bunker, from the place he so desperately wanted to call home.

Hadn't he just decided that part of his penance would be staying away from Dean? Well, perhaps his penance was enough to just be human. Surely seeing Dean would not be such an experience that it would negate the wrong he had done.

"I don't suppose you're headed towards Lebanon?" Castiel asked as casually as he could.

"I am, actually." The man confirmed. "I have to take highway 181 up North, so I'll be passing right through it." He hesitated before asking, "I guess you need a lift?"

"If you would be so kind as to provide transportation, I would be eternally grateful," Castiel confirmed. Perhaps eternal did not mean the same thing when it came to his projected lifespan as it had before last night, but it still meant something to him.

The man gnawed on his lip for a minute before nodding. "Yeah, what the hell. You're weird, but you're not creepy, so go ahead. Shotgun's all yours."

If Castiel didn't have four years of time spent with Dean to use for reference, he might have mistook the comment to mean that he was meant to handle an actual weapon. As it was, he knew instead to take the passenger's seat of the man's truck.

The man finished pumping gas, paid the attendant, and jumped in the driver's seat. "Alright, next stop, Lebanon. Hope you don't mind the radio." The man twisted the key in the ignition and a loud song began to play.

Out of habit, Castiel immediately relaxed. He didn't know what the song or band was called, but he had heard Dean play and sing this song on multiple occasions. It was familiar, and that made it very comforting. Even if the singer was doing something odd with his voice so that the only distinguishable words to the former angel were 'back in black,' the sensation made him think of Dean, who he was close to seeing. It was only an hour until he would have a place of safety.

He didn't deserve safety, or companionship. He shouldn't be going to Lebanon, he should be back in the woods on his knees, repenting before Heaven, even if no one was listening.

Somehow though, now that he knew how close he was, Castiel could not stay away from Dean Winchester, whether or not the hunter would welcome his presence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

**I ended up really enjoying writing this, so here's chapter 2 already! Thanks to JessMust7 and jojospn for their reviews on chapter 1!**

* * *

**Chapter 2 - A Fugitive Running**

When Dean awoke the next morning, he didn't feel remotely rested. His overwhelming exhaustion had faded, but the overall ache and weight of his body and soul had not left him. Staggering into the bathroom, he managed to make himself look decently conscious, but couldn't get rid of the haunted look in his eyes.

Deciding he was as good as could be expected, Dean moved towards Sam's room, hoping that perhaps a miracle had happened overnight and his overgrown little brother had managed to heal. Right, because he should be so lucky.

Sam hadn't changed at all in the six or so hours Dean had been asleep, and Dean didn't know if that was good or bad. The younger Winchester's features were sunken and waxy, like someone had tried to copy him and done it really badly. The last time Dean had seen his brother look so awful had been when Lucifer was trying to kill him from inside his own mind. Even then he had merely looked exhausted and depressed, not this hollow shell he seemed to be now.

"Hey...uh, Dean?" Kevin's voice came from the doorway, soft as though hoping not to be a disturbance.

Dean sighed and moved away from Sam's bedside, coming to join Kevin in the hall. "Yeah, man, what's up?" He asked in as normal a tone as he could manage. The worried look on Kevin's face told him he wasn't very convincing.

"I...well, I found a reference to what caused the angels to fall. I think. I'm not one hundred percent sure, but it's probably related." Kevin used his hands too much as he explained, nervousness bleeding through the relatively put together facade he'd been pulling off for the past few days.

"Alright, hit me." Dean told him, gesturing for him to continue.

"Okay, so it looks like this was a spell of some kind. Normally an angel falls by losing their grace, either intentionally or by force. With this spell, every angel's grace was torn from them simultaneously." Kevin explained this first part with a little more calm, falling into his element. When it came to the tablets, he was the one in charge.

Dean's mind immediately flew to Anna, the angel he had protected, had a fling with, and later watched die after she tried to murder their parents in the past. Before Anna had gone off the rails, she had been a fallen angel. They had gotten her grace back, and she'd returned to her normal state. "So, all those angels fell, but their graces, did those fall to Earth too? Because we met a fallen angel once, and that's exactly what happened. Someone stole it though, a different angel." Dean tried to explain without having to launch into the whole story. Kevin didn't need to know every detail of their bizarre lives.

"I think so," Kevin agreed. "The angels won't remember who they are though, so they won't know to look for it. Most of them will probably be reborn as infants anyway."

"Wait, what?" Dean asked, distracted by that comment. "Why?"

"A lot of the angels that fell won't have had permanent vessels, the way the ones you've interacted with have had. Like, if Castiel fell, he'd still look like his vessel, because they were already connected. An angel without a vessel would have instead caused a human woman to conceive and become the child inside." Kevin tried to explain clearly, but wasn't sure he was making sense.

"That's what happened to Anna," Dean remembered suddenly. "She didn't remember she was an angel until we forced her to as an adult. She was born and lived a human life."

"Right, so that's what will have happened to most of the angels," Kevin confirmed. "I doubt there'll be many adult angels walking around, but they'll probably easier to find. They won't have memories, they'll probably be considered missing person cases, and they'll undoubtedly draw attention to themselves.

Dean nodded in agreement, thinking hard. "Alright, what else did the tablet say about this spell?"

"It's powerful," Kevin replied immediately. "Like, insanely powerful. It can't be reversed. I mean, theoretically you could get every angel back in contact with their grace and they'd be restored, but they wouldn't be able to get back into Heaven. Metatron would have to let them back in by choice."

"Dammit," Dean growled. "That's not going to happen." He thought about it for a moment though before adding, "Although, restoring as many angels as we can is probably a smart move, regardless. Just because they can't go home doesn't mean they can't do some good here. We've still got all of Hell and Abbadon to deal with."

Kevin merely nodded, accepting Dean's idea. "The other thing I found that I wanted to tell you was that according to the tablet, supernatural beings can still sense angels, even when they're fallen. So, we've got a ton of grace-less amnesiac angels on Earth, and they're all in danger, like big flashing neon signs."

Dean moaned and rubbed his eyes, scowling. "Perfect. That's exactly what we need. Dammit."

A small groan alerted both Dean and Kevin, who glanced into Sam's room at the same time. Sam had made the noise, shifted slightly in bed, then had gone as still as stone once again, only his shallow breathing indicating that he was still alive.

Sighing deeply, Dean began walking away from the room. What was left for him to do? His phone beeped, and he realized he hadn't checked it yet that morning. He had three texts, all from the same person.

Charlie Bradbury:

Dean, what's up with the freak light show?

Dean, are you guys okay?

Dean, do I need to come back to Kansas to get you to answer your phone?

In spite of himself, Dean couldn't help but chuckle. If anyone could make him smile in middle of all this crap, it was Charlie. He thought for a moment before replying to her.

Dean Winchester:

No, stay wherever you are for now. The light show was every angel falling out of Heaven. Yes, really. I'll fill you in another time. Be safe.

He tacked on the last two words, hoping that with the power of well wishing he could at least protect someone he cared about. Meandering into the kitchen, he made a pot of coffee and eyed the fridge skeptically. He and Sam hadn't gone shopping in awhile, so he didn't know what was available. As it turned out, all that was left were a few leftovers from Dean's cooking experiments and some of Sam's health crap. Nothing Dean actually felt like consuming.

All he could do was watch the coffee as it was heating up, focusing on that one action and ignoring everything else. It wasn't like he could control anything else at this point. Kevin at least had his tablets. What did Dean have? A dying brother and a dead friend. He refocused on the coffee. He could control the coffee, if nothing else.

* * *

Castiel stood in front of the bunker, debating with himself. He had currently thought of eighty-four reasons why he should not knock on the door and talk to Dean, and as a result he had been standing in front of the sturdy door for almost half an hour.

Reason number one was that this was the second time he had single-handedly destroyed Heaven, and he couldn't expect to be forgiven for that.

Reason number fifteen was that Dean might not even be here, although the Impala parked out front said otherwise.

Reason number twenty-two was that Castiel couldn't properly pay penance for his actions if he was happy, and being with Dean would make him happy.

Reason number forty was that Castiel didn't have any way to apologize to Dean.

Reason number fifty-eight was that it was early in the morning and Dean might not be awake.

Reason number sixty-seven was that he should be looking for other fallen angels, not his best friend.

Reason number eighty-four was that his clothes were rumpled and dirty and he was fairly certain he smelled of bad body odor.

Despite all these reasons, Castiel found himself knocking firmly on the door before he could reach reason number eighty-five, which would likely have been about how he didn't know what to even say to Dean.

"I swear to God, if you're selling Girl Scout cookies, you better run while you still have a chance!" Came Dean's threatening voice from behind the door, a creaking noise signaling that it was about to open.

Although he realized the threat was not meant for him, Castiel seriously considered taking it and fleeing before Dean saw him. He hesitated for too long though, and suddenly the door was open and Dean Winchester was staring at him, mouth open and eyes wide with shock. He almost seemed to be waiting for something.

"Dean..." Castiel attempted to say, but he was cut off by a firm hug, the hunter practically launching himself at the former angel. Castiel felt like he would melt into Dean's warmth. This was everything he'd been craving since he fell, and he hadn't even consciously realized it until he was here. He hugged Dean back, his grip equally firm, allowing his grasp to becoming soothing when he realized Dean was shaking.

"Oh my God, Cas, I thought you were dead, or had lost your memories at the very least. I didn't think I'd every see you again." He gasped these words out in short bursts, clinging to Castiel as though he expected the former angel to vanish.

Castiel hesitated before admitting, "I was not expecting you to be so distraught by my absence. I assumed you would think I had been justly punished for my sins." His voice seemed lower than usual, weighted by his guilt.

Dean pulled back immediately, glaring at his best friend. "For the love of - get inside, Cas, before I hit you or something." Dean yanked the former angel inside the bunker, shutting the door and returning to his previous occupation of glaring. "You. Did. Not. Cause. This." He said, emphasizing every word firmly.

"Yes I did," Castiel contradicted immediately, eyes flashing. "This is entirely my fault."

"No it isn't!" Dean argued, his expression fierce. "Metatron played you, and yeah, the consequences suck, but I don't blame you for this one, Cas. You better quite it with the guilt right now, because you have nothing to feel guilty for."

Castiel looked at him with utter bewilderment. "How can you say that? Even if you somehow can forgive me for expelling all my siblings from Heaven, how can you have forgiven anything that came before? I nearly beat you to death and didn't trust you to help me protect the angel tablet. Before that, I abandoned you in Purgatory, and before that, I nearly killed Sam and almost destroyed the world. It's my fault that Leviathan are still on Earth, even if they're in hiding. How can you possibly say I have nothing to feel guilty for?" His voice has risen over the course of his speech until he practically shouted the last question.

Dean took a deep breath before replying, "Because I forgave you for all of that." He said quietly, using his peaceful tone to counteract the fierceness in Castiel's voice.

Completely disarmed, Castiel's expression of incredulity dropped into one of shock, and his aggressive posture completely faded away until he looked as if he might collapse. "I don't deserve -" He tried to say.

"Bullshit," Dean interrupted him. "Everyone deserves to be forgiven, Cas, and I forgave you. Every time you pulled any kind of crap on me or Sam, somehow you always thought you were doing what was right. You always made up for it too, even if it took you awhile. So yeah, you may have made some pretty epic mistakes, but I forgave you for everything, Cas, and so did Sam."

That last part reminded Castiel of his earlier worries, and he hesitantly asked, "Did you reach him in time?"

Knowing what Castiel meant, Dean gave a half nod and gnawed on his lip. "Sort of. He's not dead, but he's practically catatonic. He didn't complete the trials, and I think that may end up killing him anyway."

Moving forward, Castiel re-initiated the hug, smiling softly when Dean both allowed him and sunk into it. "I am sorry, Dean. I wish I could help."

"I know you do, Cas." Dean murmured. "How do you still have all your memories? How did you find us?"

"Metatron stole my grace for the spell," Castiel explained. "He sent me to Earth personally, rather than forcing me to fall. I am human, but I am the sole angel with the burden to remember everything."

Distracted by the fact that Metatron had used Castiel's grace for the spell, Dean pulled back slightly so he could see Castiel's face and asked cautiously, "If he used your grace, does that mean...?"

"It's gone, Dean. Forever. This is my penance for my part in this horror." Castiel's voice was as unwavering and monotone as it always was, but the broken expression in his eyes told an entirely different story.

"I'm so sorry, Cas," was all Dean could think to say before he had pulled Castiel back into the hug. Dean had never been that big on hugs, except in special occasions like escaping from certain death or greeting old friends, but having Castiel in his arms was perfectly natural. Dean was almost tempted to just hold the angel and never let him go, but he knew that that was impractical. At some point they would have to leave the comfort of each other's arms.

For now though, it was enough to just have each other.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

**Thanks, guys, for the interest! This is currently the fic I'm the most excited about, although I love them all dearly. I have a fully formed plan for this, so hang tight! Thanks to jojospn, bespectacledfanwarrior, and JessMust7 for their reviews on chapter 2!**

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Fallen From God**

"Hey, Dean, I found something you might find interesting!" Kevin yelled from the library, interrupting Dean and Castiel, who were still in the entryway by the door.

"Be right there!" Dean hollered back. He pulled away from Castiel, but took his head, motioning in the direction of the library. In a lower tone he said, "Come on, you'll want to hear this. I've got Kevin on angel tablet duty in case there's anything we can do."

Interest alight in his eyes, Castiel allowed Dean to lead him downstairs and into the library, where Kevin was hunched over a pile of memo pads, sticky notes, notebook paper, and the tablet itself.

"Okay, so I finally found -" Kevin glanced up and froze mid-sentence. "Uh..."

"Hello, Kevin," Castiel offered, his tone unsure. "I apologize for startling you."

"No, it's just..." Kevin trailed off, apparently unable to think of a polite way to inform Castiel that Kevin had never expected to see him again.

"Long story, Kev," Dean prompted. "Metatron took his grace and sent him to Earth personally, which is why his memories are still good. Moving on, what's so important?"

Redirecting his attention back to the tablet, Kevin rubbed his eyes tiredly and cleared his throat. "Okay, so this part is about the name of the spell."

"Why's that important?" Dean asked, looking thoroughly underwhelmed.

"The more you know, Dean." Kevin commented. "I did find something else though, which links back to the name. I don't know if I translated it right though. Actually, Castiel might be able to help...?" Kevin let the last part trail off into a question, glancing up at the former angel.

"I will assist you in any way I can," Castiel confirmed immediately. "What is the spell called?"

"_Et Recedent De Angelis_,"Kevin pronounced carefully.

Castiel froze, a look of shock on his face.

"Cas?" Dean asked, shaking Castiel's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I know of this spell. I did not know about how it was performed, or I never would have been fooled, but I have most certainly heard of this spell." Castiel's lips were practically white, and his eyes were torn between hope and fear.

"What the hell is it, Cas? What could possibly be worse than what's already happened? What does 'eat recrudescent day angels' mean anyway?" Dean demanded, concern flashing across his face.

"Dude, your latin sucks," Kevin commented, ignoring the glare flashed his way.

"The best lyrical translation in English would be _The Rise And Fall Of Angels All_," Castiel said, seeming to return to himself slightly.

"Okay..." Dean urged. "And?"

"This spell...it does not just cast us all from Heaven. It casts every angel onto Earth. Every angel." Castiel looked at Dean urgently, but could see by his expression that he did not yet understand. "Dean. Every angel. Every single one."

Dean processed that for a minute before he caught up to Castiel. "Wait, are you saying Michael and Lucifer are back on Earth?" He asked, mouth gaping in horror.

Castiel shook his head. "I do not know how it might affect the angels in the cage, but any other angel who has ever died will be back on Earth. All of them, Dean. This is a travesty. What is worse is that while the angels will be affected much the same as the living who fell, I cannot say the same of the archangels."

With a shock of panic hitting him, Dean recalled a former and much less agreeable Castiel destroying an archangel. "Raphael?" He demanded, his tone terse.

"He will be back," Castiel confirmed. "And he will have power. Not a lot though. Do you recall when Heaven was cutting me off during the apocalypse?"

"How could I forget?" Dean murmured, motioning for Castiel to continue.

"Raphael's power levels will be similar to that. He will be able to heal, fly, and smite demons, which will protect him, but his powers will be severely limited, and he will grow tired easily. The same will be true of Lucifer and Michael if they were affected by the spell." Castiel still looked worried. "An angry Raphael is nothing to treat lightly, and I pray my Father sees fit to help us if Michael and Lucifer are free."

A thought occurred to Dean before he could truly become concerned with the possibility of angry archangels coming after them. "Cas, what about Gabriel?"

As though a switch had flipped, Castiel was suddenly in a much better mood, his eyes practically alight with hope. "He will be alive as well!" Castiel exclaimed. "We must find him, Dean, now!" The former angel made to leave the room, but Dean caught his arm and pulled him to a stop.

"Woah, wait a second! Let's make a plan first. Where would he even be?" Dean presented the first question they would have to answer with a pointed tone.

"That depends on where his vessel was laid to rest," Castiel informed him.

"Uh, I don't know specifically," Dean admitted. "Somewhere in Indiana, and probably not far from that creepy ass motel. Sam buried him."

Castiel did the closest thing to a double take Dean had ever seen from him. "I was unaware you went back to the motel after fleeing," Castiel commented.

"Sam insisted," Dean said with a sigh. "Said it was the right thing to do, to make sure Gabriel was alright. Obviously he wasn't, and Sam wanted to bury him. He asked to do it alone, and I said sure. We didn't drive very far, just until Sam thought he could bury the guy without him being disturbed."

Castiel seemed to find that very interesting, but didn't comment further. "Gabriel would have risen in Indiana then," He decided. "He will be able to fly though, so he could be anywhere. He will be confused and disoriented, so we will need to find him quickly."

"I guess it's time to hit the road then," Dean declared, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair and sliding it on. "Although..." He wrinkled his nose at Castiel and commented, "You might want to take a shower first. I'll get you some new clothes and make some calls, and then we're on the road."

"That seems reasonable," Castiel agreed. "Where might I find the shower?"

Dean pointed it out for him, and even went as far as to show him how to opperate it, not being able to think of any reason why Castiel would need to have possessed that knowledge before now. "I leave some clothes by the sink for you," he called as he left.

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel replied before becoming preoccupied with his shower.

Dean collected the clothes first, deciding on a pair of his own jeans and a button-up shirt to dress his friend. Castiel was closer to his height than Sam's, so it made more sense to give him clothes he had a chance of actually fitting into.

Finished with that task, Dean dialed Garth's private cell and let it ring.

"You've reached Garth Fitzgerald IV, what can I do for you?"

"Dude, you need a new way to answer your phone," Dean told him with a sigh.

"Dean! What's up?" Garth sounded unreasonably pleased to hear from him.

"Good news, bad news, and mediocre news." Dean informed him.

"Alright, give me the bad news first." Garth said with a sigh. "I want to end on a high note."

"Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael may all be alive and kicking as a result of the spell that caused the angels to fall." Dean said this as quickly as possible, not relishing the announcement. Garth hadn't been a part of Team Free Will the last time the archangels were causing problems, but he had heard the stories and done his share of hunting during that time.

"Balls," Garth cursed.

Dean almost smiled. Almost. The kid was getting better at that. "On the mediocre front, Sam's not better, but he's no worse either."

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"I know, Garth, it's alright. He'll pull through, he always does." Dean cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "Alright, good news! Guess who showed up on my doorstep this morning?"

There was a pause, then Garth was abruptly yelling into the phone. "OH MY GOD, DEAN! IS CASTIEL THERE? DID YOU FIND HIM? IS HE OKAY?"

Dean started laughing in spite of himself. "He's human and wallowing in self pity, but otherwise he's fine."

"OH MY GOD," Garth repeated. Lowering his voice he added, "I'm happy for you, Dean."

Deciding to leave that comment alone, Dean switched to his reason for calling. "Alright, Garth, I need to update you. Cas and I are headed out on a road trip to try and find a newly risen archangel who probably won't want to be found. If we can find him though, he might be able to help us out. I have to leave Sam here, and Kevin's still working on the tablet, so if you could maybe find yourself within emergency distance of Lebanon for a few days..." He trailed off.

"Say no more, Dean," Garth ordered confidently. "I'm walking to my truck now. Good luck on your road trip."

"Thanks, Garth," Dean replied, then hung up the phone. The absence of running water alerted him that Castiel must have finished his shower, so he headed back towards the bathroom. He stopped a few feet away when Castiel emerged, hair rumpled and wet, with water droplet's dripping off and rolling down his forehead. The jeans were a tad too big for him, so they clung low on his hips. The button-up was big as well, because Castiel was lean, but the overall look was really good on him, and Dean caught himself staring with more interest than was currently appropriate.

"Uh...ready to go?" Dean finally managed to ask.

"I believe so," Castiel responded. "I also believe I enjoy showers."

Dean chuckled at that. "Well, you'll need one almost every day, so that's probably a good thing."

Castiel nodded seriously. "I can certainly handle having that particular experience frequently."

Still smiling, Dean got Castiel, who was surprising his shoes size, into a pair of Dean's old boots and grabbed two of his ready-packed bags for leaving on a hunt short notice. He tossed one to Castiel, who caught it instinctively, and motioned for the door.

"Let's go find us an archangel."

* * *

The night the angels fell, Gabriel had found himself lying on the ground in the middle of nowhere for no apparent reason. His memory was garbled, and all that he could clearly remember was a fight with his jerk of an older brother and then a sharp pain in his chest.

Oh. Right.

Wait, if Lucifer had stabbed him, how was he able to think coherently, let alone breath and just generally be alive? He was still wearing the clothes he'd been in at Elysian Fields, which made him think not much time had passed, since aside from being a little dirty, they weren't deteriorating. He snapped his fingers and was wearing a different jeans and jacket ensemble, but his grace felt wrong. Why was he so weak? He was worse off than a seraph, and that was saying something. He should be able to create an Eiffel Tower out of chocolate, and right now he barely felt powerful enough to figure out where the heck he was.

Concentrating, Gabriel was able to do at least that. It hurt to use his grace now, but it was at least still there. He was in Indiana, which is exactly where he remembered being. Why did everything feel wrong?

For the first time, Gabriel allowed his eyes to drift upwards, where the flashing lights had attracted his attention.

Oh, Father.

No.

Please, Father, no.

They were falling. All of them. Every angel in creation was falling.

Tears sprang unbidden to Gabriel's eyes as he watched, unable to help. Why was he not falling with them? Was this Lucifer's doing? How could the Morning Star do that to his family?

Something, maybe intuition, told Gabriel that there was more going on here than he thought. Everything felt wrong, and he knew he was missing information. For starters, how he ended up in a clearing surrounded by trees when he remembered being in a motel conference room.

Answers could wait. For now, he would mourn the pain of his siblings. For all he knew, he was the last angel with any grace, and it was possible that was only because he was an archangel. He would wait until he had witnessed the end of the fall, and then he would flee Indiana. He couldn't risk anyone finding him.

Nobody could know Gabriel was there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:**

**I'm so pleased by the reviews on the last chapter! I love you all, and I'm psyched that you're so excited! Thanks to JessMust7, jojospn, loveskylove, bespectacledfanwarrior, and ZoetheSka for their reviews on chapter 3! Your excitement is infectious, so thank you so much!**

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Fallen From Grace**

Dean wasn't sure why, but for some reason driving with Castiel was turning out to be a very awkward experience. He had calculated that it would take them about twelve hours to reach the area where Sam had buried Gabriel, but he only planned to do about eight of those hours on the first day of driving. He wasn't even remotely okay with the idea of Castiel getting behind the wheel, but he didn't want to risk falling asleep or something, so he'd decided to limit them to eight hours.

Castiel didn't talk for the first two hours of the trip, and even after their first bathroom break, he was still largely silent. Four hours into the trip, Dean finally snapped.

"Dude, say something!" Dean blurted, stressing each syllable.

Castiel started and gave Dean a curious look. "What would you like me to say, Dean?" He asked, puzzled.

"Anything, man! You're too quiet, it's making me nervous." Dean shot him an irritated look.

"I apologize, Dean. I did not realize we were meant to be conversing." Castiel looked properly abashed.

Dean groaned. "That's not what I mean, Cas. It's just, this is a long drive, we've both been through a lot of crap recently, and you're my best friend. We should talk, you know?"

Castiel frowned. "I was under the impression you did not appreciate conversations of such a nature."

"Well, Cas, sometimes conversations need to be had. Can we just talk? It doesn't even have to be about anything important. It's just...I've missed you, okay? I want to, I dunno, make up for lost time." Dean sighed heavily and redirected his attention to the road.

Quiet for a moment, Castiel finally nodded in agreement. "You are right, Dean. I have missed our comradarie as well. What would you like to talk about?"

"Anything, Cas. First thing that comes to your mind." Dean threw out.

"I am glad I came to find you," Castiel replied immediately.

Dean did a double take, not having expected Castiel to take him so seriously or respond so quickly. "I'm glad too, Cas," he responded seriously. "You have no idea how relieved I am that you're...still you."

"I'm not an angel anymore, Dean," Castiel corrected quietly.

"Being an angel didn't make you Cas," Dean argued. "Being you made you Cas. You're still you in my book. I'm not Dean because I'm human. If I got poisoned by Tinker Bell and started to sparkle like a damned fairy, I'd still be Dean."

Castiel was giving Dean the most bewildered expression he had ever seen in his life. "I don't believe I can ever come close to understanding that reference, Dean."

In spite of himself, Dean's lips curved into a grin. "It doesn't matter, Cas. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"That you love me for my personality, not my species?" Castiel offered as a summary.

Dean paused, not sure if that wording was what he meant. Love? Hell yes he loved Castiel, but whether or not it was in all the ways that statement could be interpreted was still to be determined. He finally settled on nodding. "Yeah, Cas, that's exactly what I'm saying."

Nodding thoughtfully, Castiel replied with, "Then I will reciprocate in kind. I love you, Dean Winchester, for your personality, not your species."

Dean grinned again and let a chuckle escape his mouth. "Well now that that's settled..." He trailed off, not know what topic to switch too.

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again when Dean's phone began ringing.

With a sigh, Dean fished his phone out of his pocket and pecked at the selection to answer the call with his thumb. "Yeah?"

"Dean? It's Kevin." The former advanced placement student sounded worse than usual.

"What's wrong, Kevin?" Dean asked immediately, skipping any pleasantries.

"Uh...I'm not actually sure. Well, I think Sam's having nightmares." Kevin seemed to be doing something that was muffled in the speaker.

"What do you mean?" Dean demanded.

"Well, I went into to check on him, see if I could try and get some food in him somehow? But all of a sudden he started thrashing violently and yelling. I'm pretty sure he's dreaming, but I can't wake him up. Sometimes he just lays there, moaning, and then all of a sudden he'll be all over the place. He's smacked me in the head twice now." Kevin reported this nervously, as though worried Dean might blame him for Sam's poor turn.

"Dammit," Dean muttered, trying to pay attention to the road.

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked, concern filling out his expression.

"Sam's having crazy nightmares, but he's still pretty much a vegetable, so Kevin can't wake him up." Dean summarized for the former angel before speaking into the phone again. "Kevin, have you tried smacking him back? Maybe a jolt will -"

"No, that didn't work." Kevin interrupted him.

Dean paused, an eyebrow raised even though he knew Kevin couldn't see him.

Kevin knew what the pause meant anyway and explained. "It was half instinctual the first time he hit me. He didn't even flinch though."

Castiel held out his hand. "Give me the phone."

Hesitating for a brief second, Dean handed his phone over, watching to be sure Castiel put it against his head the right way around.

"Kevin, this is Castiel. I need you to stand over Sam and repeat these words exactly. _Affa Angelard Baghie_." He accentuated each word in the Enochian, ensuring Kevin could repeat after him accurately.

Dean kept splitting his gaze between Castiel and the road, finding himself far more interested in his fallen angel than in road.

"What happened?" Castiel asked. He nodded in response to whatever Kevin said and added, "Good. If it begins again, that spell should still work, but if anything different happens, please let us know. Have a pleasant day." Castiel hung up the phone and handed it back to Dean.

"What did you do?" Dean demanded. He felt like he should be grateful to Castiel, but wasn't sure why.

"It is an Enochian spell. Essentially it cleared Sam's mind of nightmares, but it is only temporary. Kevin does not have anywhere near the type of power that could keep Sam's mind safe for any length of time. I thought it best to at least attempt to provide him with rest until we find Gabriel." Castiel explained all this in his customary monotone, but consistently glanced at Dean as though seeking approval.

Dean let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Cas. That means a lot."

"Of course, Dean. I will always do whatever is in my power to help you." Castiel said these words as if they were the most obvious thing in the world.

Dean couldn't help but smile at Castiel, his overwhelming fondness for the fallen angel affecting his ability to pay attention to the road. "Thanks, Cas," he repeated, but this time his tone was fervent and sincere.

Castiel met his eyes and nodded, equally serious. "You are welcome."

From that moment on, they drove in silence, but it was a comfortable quiet. Unlike earlier, when there had been an obvious lack of conversation, there was now a peace between them, and they didn't really need to talk.

The rest of the drive was similar, with only occasional conversation interrupting the quiet until they reached their motel that night. Castiel immediately occupied the shower, which Dean tolerated with a grin. If something could make Castiel alright with being human, who was he to begrudge him that? Even if the fallen angel did take rather long showers.

The room the had booked did have two double beds, but Dean didn't choose one at first, waiting to give Castiel first pick. The former angel hadn't ever truly slept before, and Dean figured he might as well try and make it easier.

When Castiel finally emerged from the bathroom, wearing only a pair of Dean's old flannel sleep pants, it took Dean a moment to reboard his train of thought.

"Uh...hey, so I thought you might want to pick a bed? Since this will be your first time sleeping through the night and all." Dean tried to sound teasing, but the overall statement sounded relatively serious.

Castiel hesitated. "Dean, forgive me if this is an unacceptable request, but would it be possible for us to share?" He looked awkward, as though afraid he had offended Dean.

Surprise was Dean's first reaction, but to his relief there was no negative emotional response to the question. That pleased him, and he smiled at Castiel. "Socially it would be a little weird, but I don't mind, Cas. We can absolutely share if you'd be more comfortable with that."

Castiel looked intensely relieved. "Thank you, Dean. I am...uncomfortable with the idea of encountering this new aspect of humanity on my own."

"Don't worry about it," Dean told him easily. "I'm here to help." He typically slept in boxer shorts, but because he would be sharing the bed he opted for a little more coverage, slipping into flannel pants like the ones Castiel had donned.

The two men slid into the bed furthest from the door, laying next to each other staring at the ceiling. "Goodnight, Dean." Castiel said quietly.

"Goodnight, Cas," Dean replied, hyper aware of the warm body next to him. He thought this would feel weird somehow, but for whatever reason it feels natural. He and Castiel had always supported each other and comforted each other, even when one of them was in the wrong. This was no different. It was as much a part of their relationship as Dean spouting pop culture references that Castiel didn't have a prayer of grasping.

The quiet sounds of Castiel breathing beside Dean were intensely therapeutic, and Dean found himself drifting off to sleep much sooner than usual. Perhaps he would have to make this arrangement a regular practice, if only in the name of a good night's sleep.

* * *

Dean awoke the next morning feeling intensely satisfied and comfortable, and it took him a moment to figure out why. Once he had, he couldn't decide on how to react. At some point during the night, Castiel had shifted until he was curved around Dean, one arm and leg over the hunter's body and their heads cradled together like puzzle pieces.

The steady rhythm of Castiel's breathing told Dean that he was still asleep, so the older Winchester elected to not move just yet. There was no harm in enjoying the comfort of Castiel's body next to his for a few more minutes.

He only lay in silence beside Castiel for another six or seven minutes before the fallen angel yawned and stretched, tilting his head up to meet his eyes with Dean's.

"Good morning," Dean commented with amusement in his voice. "Did you sleep well?"

"I believe so," Castiel replied. "Once I got past the disconcerting feeling, it was rather pleasant."

Dean chuckled and tilted his head to press a chaste kiss to Castiel's forehead. "I'm glad," he said with a smile. He turned and got out of bed, grabbing some clothes out of his bag and heading for the bathroom. "I'm going to shower and then we'll hit the road," he informed Castiel before closing the door.

Castiel decided to use the time to change into his own clothes for the day, and found himself layering items from his bag in a way similar to what he had seen Dean do for so long. As far as Castiel was concerned, that was the right way to wear these particular items of clothing. Some of the items hugged his body in a different way than the suit he had worn for so long, and he decided he liked the feeling. Jeans in particular were comfortable.

Dean emerged from the bathroom after only ten minutes, and bit his lip to keep from chuckling at Castiel's appearance. "It looks good on you," he commented, gesturing to the ensemble. It really did, especially the jeans. Castiel's ass looked nice encased in denim. Dean decided not to voice that particular observation, hoping to keep their road trip non-awkward today.

"Are we ready to 'hit the road'?" Castiel asked, using air quotes around the expression Dean had used earlier.

"Let me check out of the motel first." Dean told him. "I'll meet you at the car. Here." He tossed the Impala keys to Castiel and pointed at him seriously. "You're in charge of Baby for five minutes. Don't break anything." He grinned to show he was kidding and strode out the door towards the check-in desk.

Staring at the keys, Castiel felt as though he had been given a great honor. Only Dean and Sam drove the Impala, and even Sam only rarely was allowed behind the wheel. It wasn't like Dean had give him permission to drive the Impala yet, but having the keys was somehow an important step.

Grabbing the bags, Castiel walked outside, unlocking the trunk and packing the car while he waited. Once he had finished that, he opened the driver's side door and put the key in the ignition, turning it until the cassette player turned on. The tape Dean had left in from yesterday was not a band he particularly liked, so he fiddled with the system until he found a song he could understand the words to.

Dean chose the exact moment Castiel decided to attempt to move to the beat to emerge from the building. He almost stopped in his tracks at the sight of his best friend awkwardly dancing to an old Bon Jovi song. Instead, he chuckled and came up behind Castiel, grabbing the fallen angel's shoulders and turning him around.

"You're almost there, but you have to move with the drum beats. Like this, watch." Dean removed his hands and planted his feet in time to the music, then made three distinct hand gestures in time with the music. "Cause it's! My! Life!" He sang, then resumed his normal standing position "Bon Jovi's cool sometimes," he allowed. Reaching inside the car, he switched off the radio than pulled out again to point at Castiel and say, "but not all the time."

Smiling slightly, Castiel's cheeks were tinged slightly red, which Dean thought was pretty adorable. He'd never seen Castiel embarrassed before, and it was a good look for him. "You're not half bad, dude," Dean added. "Maybe you and I can hit up a club or something someday and we'll get you on a dance floor." He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows to show he was teasing.

"That sounds like an interesting experience," Castiel acknowledged slowly.

Dean chuckled and gestured to the passenger's seat. "Well, we'll see what happens after we find your Trickster brother, okay? For now, hope in the car. We've got to get going."

Castiel complied, and within minutes the two men were on the road again. This leg of the trip was more animated, and both Dean and Castiel spent large parts of the drive laughing and just talking. Dean took it upon himself to explain various aspects of pop culture that his best friend was woefully short on knowledge of. When it came to movies though, he insisted that there were some that the fallen angel was just going to have to watch.

Because of the animated nature of their conversation, this leg of the drive passed much more quickly, and it felt like hardly any time had passed before Dean was beginning to recognize their surroundings.

"We're almost there," he told Castiel. "Sam had me stop somewhere in this area. I think I'll know it when I see it."

It was about ten more minutes, but Dean did recognize the spot. Pulling over, he and Castiel exited the Impala and walked into the cover of the trees. A short way's back there was a clearing that was largely dirt, and much of it had been kicked around and trampled recently.

"The ground doesn't look broken," Dean observed. "Would he have actually come out of his grave or just woken up here?"

"Simply awoken, I believe," Castiel replied. "That would explain the footmarks in the dirt. I believe he was here, but he is probably gone by now. If you can get me access to the Internet, I believe I can help narrow down his possible locations from here. His flight will be limited."

"Yeah, we can do that," Dean agreed. "We need to find him, and fast."

"True, but he must be careful. Gabriel is smart enough to determine if he is being tracked, but not powerful enough to be able to figure out that it is you and I who are after him." Castiel looked concerned as he voiced this fact.

"Then we'll have to be sneaky," Dean pointed out. "We can find him, Cas. We will find him."

Castiel nodded, reassured by Dean's sincerity. "I most definitely hope so."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

**I can't stay away from this fic for very long, so have another chapter! I wanted to clarify for a guest reviewer that the reason the archangels still have some powers after the spell is because they are archangels. In the show, Metatron made a point of asking what happened to the archangels, which makes me think that whether or not they were around to threaten him would have affected his plans. Hence my idea that they retain some of their powers. Obviously the spell is very powerful, causing angels to fall, which is why their powers are now so limited. I hope that helps! Thanks to jojospn and bespectacledfanwarrior for their reviews on chapter 4!**

* * *

**Chapter 5 - God Be My Witness**

It only took fifteen minutes to find a coffee shop with Wi-Fi, but it took Dean almost an hour to teach Castiel how to use the Internet by himself. Once he was confident that Castiel wasn't going to accidentally Google porn or break the laptop he went to get coffee, leaving the fallen angel to do his research.

It occurred to Dean that he had no idea if Castiel even liked coffee, but it seemed rude to not get him anything, so Dean just ordered him a basic coffee with vanilla and extra sweetener. Castiel seemed like a sweetener kind of person, didn't he? Well, maybe not all the time, but for some reason Dean felt like Castiel could use the sugar.

Taking the coffees back to their table, Dean pushed Castiel's drink over to him. "There, got you some brain fuel."

Castiel looked confused until he smelled the drink, his expression relaxing. "Ah, coffee. I am fond of its aroma."

So Castiel did like coffee. Dean filed that information away for future reference, and watched with bated breath as the fallen angel took a sip, relaxing when he made an appreciative noise.

"This is good, Dean. Thank you." Castiel licked his upper lip free of moisture and dropped his eyes back to the screen.

"No problem, Cas. So how exactly are you planning to find Gabriel online?" Dean couldn't help prying into whatever Castiel's process was. Demons he could track online, that was easy. You just had to know what patterns you were searching for. Angels didn't leave patterns like that though, so he didn't see how the Internet was going to help.

"I estimated the furthest he would have been able to fly on such limited power and am attempting to pin down his location from the available cities by where I believe he would be most likely to go," Castiel informed him, taking another sip of coffee but not shifting his eyes from the screen.

"Dude, we could have done that on a map," Dean pointed out.

"This is faster," Castiel countered.

Dean doubted that, considering the amount of time it had taken to teach Castiel how to use the laptop, but decided not to argue the point. He was trying to decide whether or not to continue this conversation when his phone rang. It seemed that when odd things happened in the world, suddenly everyone wanted to talk to him. This number surprised him though, and he answered with a curious, "Hello?"

"Hey, Dean, it's Sheriff Mills. Jody. Anyway, I almost died this week." The no-nonsense sheriff that Dean had to admit he kind of liked seemed irritated, but he wasn't sure who with.

"Uh...I'm sorry?" Dean offered, not sure what he was expected to say. "What happened?"

"I'm not really sure, but it was one of those weird things that pretty much only happens when people realize I know you two." Jody's tone was still irritated, and Dean wondered if she was upset that she was connected to them.

"Wait, you mean you were attacked?" Dean attempted to clarify.

"Dean, I don't even know what happened. I started choking up blood, like a lot of blood, while I was in the bathroom on a date. I passed out on the floor and woke up in the hospital getting a transfusion. I'm out now, which is why I'm calling you. I figured someone came after me, because perfectly healthy people don't start choking up blood for no reason." Jody's voice shook a little bit as she told her story, but it had transformed into steel by the time she got to the end.

Dean groaned aloud, upset now. "It sounds like you were hexed, and I have a pretty damn good idea who it was."

"Well whoever it was screwed up a perfectly lovely date," Jody informed him, sounding pissed.

Something about that sentence struck Dean, and he asked, "Sheriff, was your date by any chance a relatively short British man who pretty much oozed charm and self confidence?"

Silence. Then, "He might have been. Why?"

"Dammit." Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, Sheriff, I really am. His name is Crowley, and he's the king of Hell. Or, he was. Actually, I kind of left him chained up in an abandoned building." It occurred to him that he should probably do something about that, and he resolved to get Garth on it as soon as he hung up.

"King of WHAT?" Jody demanded.

"Hell," Dean repeated. "He's a demon. Or was. It's complicated. Sam, demons, Hell, a lot's been going on. Crowley's either mostly dead or mostly human now, I'm not sure which, and Sam is dying, so I'm kind of stressed here as I'm sure you can imagine."

Passing right over the Crowley subject, Jody went into worried mother mode over the latter news. "What's wrong with Sam? Is he going to be okay?"

"It's complicated, Sheriff. I have no idea if he'll recover. For the record, I'm glad you're alright. We knew Crowley had gone after someone we'd saved, but he didn't tell us who. He'd already killed three people before you, one of whom was an old flame of Sam's. At least we managed to keep him from killing you too." Dean sighed heavily and looked up to realize Castiel was watching him with concern. He waved him away, motioning to the laptop and mouthing "I'm fine."

"I guess I owe you guys a thank you then. Again. I'm sorry you're wallowing through so much crap, Dean, and I truly hope Sam recovers. Please tell me you aren't on your own." Jody's voice was full of concern, her dormant maternal tendencies fully at work.

Dean glanced up and caught Castiel's gaze again. In spit of himself a small smile appeared as he replied, "No, Sheriff, I'm not alone. If one good thing came out of this past week, it's that somehow God saw fit to give me back my best friend in one piece. At least I have that."

"That's good, Dean. No one should be alone. Please, if you need anything, call me anytime. I'm here for you guys." Jody sounded earnest, as though wanting Dean to promise to call her.

"If there's anything you can do, Sheriff, I'll be sure to let you know," Dean assured her, forcing his eyes away from the unfathomable expression on Castiel's face.

"Good. I'll let you get back to your work, since I'm sure you're doing something important. Goodbye, Dean."

"Bye, Sheriff." The line clicked, and Dean put his phone away, reluctantly redirecting his attention to Castiel. "Dude, why are you looking at me like that?"

Castiel tilted his head slightly, but the intensity of his gaze did not waver. "I did not realize," he commented slowly.

"Didn't realize what, Cas?" Dean prompted.

"That my presence was such a relief to you. That you actually consider me a blessing from God." Castiel's expression could possibly be considered wonderment, and his eyes were intense, as though attempting to probe into Dean's soul, despite the fact that he couldn't actually do that anymore.

Dean blew out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, not sure how to respond to that. "I thought I made that pretty clear back at the bunker," he finally said. "You have no idea how much it means to me that you're actually here. I could care less that you're wingless, Cas. You, my best friend, you're alive and well, and you're pretty much the only part of my life that's not in turmoil. It's nice to have a rock." He had said more than he intended, and he leaned back in his chair, using his coffee as a distraction.

"I am glad to be that for you, Dean," Castiel told him solemnly. "You are the only good thing about falling."

They both returned to their respective purposes after that, Dean to drinking his coffee and Castiel to his research. Eventually, Dean pulled out his phone again and dialed Garth, telling Castiel that when the fallen angel looked up at him questioningly.

"Hey, Dean! What can I do for you?" Garth answered his phone entirely too cheerfully in Dean's opinion.

"I've got a mission for you, Garth, and it kind of sucks, sorry." Dean tried to sound apologetic, since he knew this wasn't going to be a fun mission.

"No problem, Dean. Happy to help." Garth's mood didn't appear to be dimmed in the slightest.

"Okay, so remember how I mentioned leaving Crowley in the middle of nowhere?" Dean started, feeling like in retrospect that had been a stupid decision.

"Let me guess, you need me to go get him," Garth surmised.

Dean sighed, relieved that Garth didn't seem put off. "Yeah, preferably. I kind of don't want to leave him there for anyone to find. He's in an abandoned church in South Dakota. If you're already in Kansas it should only be an eight hour drive or so."

"Actually less than that. I'm not in Kansas yet," Garth informed him. "I had to meet up with a few people on the way, so I'll go look for Crowley before I head towards Lebanon. Where is this church?"

Dean gave him the location information and warned him about the possibility of Abbadon returning to the area. "Just be careful, alright, dude?"

"Of course!" Garth assured him. "I'll call you when I get there."

Hanging up the phone again, Dean returned his gaze to Castiel, who was looking at him with one raised eyebrow.

"What?" Dean asked, feeling self conscious.

"Are you rescuing Crowley?" Castiel inquired.

"Well, he's kind of helpless," Dean pointed out. "It's cruel to just abandon him, but at the same time he's also technically still the king of Hell, and it's probably smart to keep him close. I probably should have grabbed him before, but all I could think about was getting Sam out of there."

"Understandably," Castiel acknowledged. "The situation with Crowley is interesting. I am curious to see how that plays out."

"You and me both. Are you any closer to locating your ass of a brother?" Dean asked, sighing tiredly.

Castiel shot him a look of irritation, but didn't argue. "I believe so. I know he keeps a cabin in Colorado, because I tracked him there to speak with him before his death. It is within his flight range, and I think it is the most likely option."

"Alright, Colorado it is," Dean declared with a sigh. "Man, I wish you could drive. I don't really want to drive straight through for three days. Well, two days if we speed and don't stop to piss."

"I can try to drive, if you would like," Castiel offered.

"No offense, Cas, but I think it would take longer to teach you to be safe behind the wheel than would end up being helpful," Dean told him reluctantly. "It's something to think about for the future though."

"If time is of the essence, why can we not take a plane?" Castiel asked innocently.

Dean scowled. "Two reasons. First, because it's expensive, and I don't exactly have a paying job. Secondly, because I hate flying with every fiber of my being."

Understanding lit in Castiel's eyes. "That's why you disliked traveling with me," he stated, his tone sounding odd to Dean.

"It's disconcerting," Dean acknowledged. "I just really hate flying. It's like a phobia or something. Sam makes fun. Why'd you think I didn't like flying with you?"

Castiel shrugged, but the look on his face spoke volumes.

"Cas," Dean said firmly, waiting until the fallen angel looked at him again. "If you ever feel hurt by something I say or do, take comfort in the fact that I probably didn't mean it. I say stupid stuff sometimes without thinking. The fact that you could fly was awesome, trust me. It's just really not my thing."

In spite of himself, Castiel had to smile at Dean's reassurances. "I am used to your manner, Dean. I frequently find that you do not intend most things of offense that you say."

Dean made a face at him. "Alright, let's get on the road. Long drive."

* * *

Similar to their driving the day before, Castiel and Dean managed to maintain a relatively comfortable silence, speaking only sporadically for the next four hours. Eventually the quiet was broken by the ringing of Dean's cell phone.

"Hey, Garth, give me good news," Dean said upon answering the call.

"Yeah...about that..." Garth sounded fearful, as though Dean's rage might explode through the phone.

"Dammit. Is he gone?" Dean asked.

"Um, yeah. There's nothing in this church except a broken devil's trap on the floor. It's otherwise completely empty." Garth sounded confused by that.

It didn't make sense to Dean either. "Wait, when I left there was a charred corpse in the corner and a chair with a bunch of chains in the center of the room. That's all gone now?"

"It's an empty room, Dean. What do you mean a charred corpse?" Garth sounded abruptly concerned, which was kind of amusing given his profession.

"Long story," Dean said, rejecting the conversation topic. "Someone must have come for him if they took all of the bindings keeping him there. Let me know if you find anything else, but otherwise there's probably not much you can do there. Head to Lebanon, I guess."

"I'm on my way. This place is pretty much a dead end. I'm sorry, Dean." Garth sounded overly apologetic.

"Relax, Garth. It's not your fault. We'll fix this eventually." Dean sighed and hung up the phone.

"Crowley is gone?" Castiel surmised.

Dean grunted an affirmative. "Yeah, Cas. The king of Hell is missing. Perfect."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

**Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing and reading this story! It means so much to me that you guys enjoy it. Thanks especially to jojospn, youwannabekate, moria galadrial, and Sinthija for their reviews on chapter 5!**

* * *

**Chapter 6 - I Never Shall Yield**

At the end of their first day of driving, Dean checked them into a motel. He needed some sleep if he was going to drive all day tomorrow too. He only got one bed for the room, for two reasons. Firstly, it was cheaper, and secondly, he had asked Castiel if he wanted to continue sharing, and the fallen angel had been earnest in his affirmation. So the duo found themselves in a much smaller motel room than they were used to with a double bed and a tiny bathroom.

"Want to shower?" Dean offered, gesturing towards the bathroom.

Castiel looked like he was about to suggest something, but changed his mind and merely nodded, heading for the bathroom quietly and shutting the door behind him.

Dean sat down on the bed and turned the television on, flipping channels idly. He settled on national news, which he had admittedly not been paying any attention to. The reporter was talking about a flood somewhere in Texas, so he tuned it out and laid back on the bed.

Pulling out his phone, Dean shot Kevin a quick text.

Dean Winchester:

How's Sam?

It took a few minutes, but his phone soon beeped out a response.

Kevin Tran:

Pretty much the same. Just sleeping. Garth showed up and helped me hook him up with tubes so we can at least feed him.

Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Well, at least Sam wasn't dead yet. That was something. It wasn't progress, but at least he hadn't gotten worse. Dean wasn't sure he could take any more bad news at this point.

Dean Winchester:

Thanks, Kevin. Thank Garth for me too.

He tossed his phone onto the bedside table and turned his attention back to the news.

"...and many reporters are flocking to Seward, Nebraska to look into the mysterious reappearance of three missing persons. Police are baffled by this case, as none of the victims in question remember anything of their former lives, and have grown highly uncooperative with the investigation. One of the investigators has been quoted as saying that 'It's almost like they're completely different people.'"

Huh. Well that was interesting. Seems like Nebraska had managed to catch a few falling angels. Dean wasn't sure what to do with that information, although the fact that it was on the news was probably bad. Anyone would know where to find angels now, which was not a good sign. With Crowley missing and Abbadon on the loose, it was entirely possible that the population of Heaven that was now on Earth was in serious danger from the demonic community.

When Castiel emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, Dean turned to tell him about the report and found himself completely sidetracked. The fallen angel was wrapped only in a towel, his lean muscle shimmering under water droplets and his normally mussy hair falling in his face with the weight of the water. "I forgot my sleeping pants," Castiel murmured by way of explanation, rubbing water out of his eyes with his fingers and shifting awkwardly on the rough carpet.

"Uh..." It took Dean a minute to remember that he had been trying to tell Castiel something. "Yeah, no worries. I put your bag on the cabinet there." He pointed and then brought up the report. "So there was a news report on just a little bit ago. It seems that several angels have popped up in some town in Nebraska. The reporter was talking about the missing person's cases, but it sounds like angels to me." Dean watched Castiel closely as he picked up his change of clothes and ducked back into the bathroom, reemerging with his chest still bare, which Dean seemed to find more distracting the more he saw it. Dean gestured to the bed for Castiel to come join him.

Castiel moved to sit next to Dean, his face showing he was lost in thought. "It is dangerous for angels to be together on Earth, even if they do not know they are angels," he said thoughtfully. "They will attract attention of a dangerous kind. I wish there was a way for us to help them."

"Us staying away will probably keep them off the supernatural radar for now," Dean pointed out. "Anywhere we go, trouble inevitably follows."

As if to punctuate his statement, Dean's phone beeped. It was a new text.

Garth Fitzgerald IV:

Your super duper computer dohickey is indicating major demonic activity in Nebraska. Any clue why?

Dean blanched and showed Castiel the text, wincing at the panic that appeared on the fallen angel's face.

"We have to go help them!" Castiel blurted, his eyes wide with fear. "They are helpless to such an attack!"

"We will, Cas, I promise. Let me get Garth on track with getting the rest of the cavalry to Nebraska. You and I need sleep or we won't be able to help anyone. Seward is at least three hours from here." Dean put his hand on Castiel's shoulder, using his presence to calm the slighter man down.

Castiel relaxed slightly and nodded. "Please have Garth send the angels help as soon as he can," he requested, his voice sounding smaller of a sudden.

Dean just patted his shoulder again before reclaiming his hand to text Garth.

Dean Winchester:

Get every hunter you can to Seward, Nebraska. There's fallen angels there that are like beacons for demons. Cas and I can't get there until tomorrow.

He waited until Garth sent him a text of confirmation before setting his phone aside. He stood up and grabbed his sleep bottoms, ducking into the bathroom to change. He came back out and slid under the covers next to Castiel, pleased with the small realization that this still felt natural and not weird. He liked sleeping with Castiel, and he knew the fallen angel liked sleeping with him. It was calming, and made him happy. He relaxed next to Castiel's warmth and even scooted closer.

"Goodnight, Cas," Dean murmured.

"Goodnight, Dean," Castiel replied softly, turning so he could see the hunter, whose eyes were already closed. Castiel smiled and felt himself drifting into sleep as well, thanking his Father for allowing him the small grace of Dean's presence.

* * *

In Seward, Nebraska, two men and one woman were under observation at a hotel under police supervision. They were being watched 24/7 by the police, who weren't really sure what to do with them. More concerning, however, was the surveillance they didn't know about. Eight low-level demons had been tasked with watching the fallen angels to make sure they were not moved during the night. There were twelve more higher level demons in strategic places around town, just waiting for the arrival of their commander.

Abbadon, the queen of Hell. The regime change had been swift and uncontested, and the demons scurried to do her bidding. She would be arriving tomorrow, eager to be present for the first official execution of fallen angels. The fact that these people wouldn't understand why they were being killed was irrelevant. Abbadon was not sympathetic to their loss, just grateful that they were suddenly so much easier to kill.

There was a slight chance of her plans being interrupted, but she didn't have reason to believe that the Winchesters would be involved. Last time she had seen Sam, before he had torched the host she'd been rather fond of, he'd looked about ready to keel over. She didn't find him threatening in the slightest. He was probably already dead. Dean, on the other hand, could be threatening if he could find her. She'd gone into hiding for the past few days, waiting for her underlings to repair her host. Even the stitch marks were gone now, and she was pleased. Finding a new host suitable for a queen would have been tedious, and the one she'd been wearing was perfectly fine once it was repaired. She even had a new outfit. What queen is complete without a royal wardrobe?

Nebraska was only the start. Phase one of the new queen's plans for the world. Once all the angels were gone, humanity wouldn't have a prayer of standing up to Hell's reign. The Winchesters had been trying to close the gates, but they'd obviously failed, so who was left to stand in their way? Abbadon was quite pleased with herself, and she hadn't even really done anything yet. It was only a matter of time before the entire Earth was under her rule, and she was confident of that. It didn't matter who challenged her, because there would be no one left with any power to stop her.

Abbadon, queen of Hell, would soon be queen of all.

* * *

Gabriel sat in his cabin in Colorado, glaring at the television screen. So, there were three former angels in Nebraska. He knew the signs well enough. Unfortunately, there were others who would know the signs as well, so Nebraska was about to become a very dangerous place very quickly.

He had caught up enough on current events since fleeing Indiana to realize that the year was no longer 2010. He had been dead for a lot longer than he'd thought, and based on what he could glean from human media, Lucifer had been back in the cage for awhile. If nothing else, that meant that the Winchesters had won. That made Gabriel really happy for some reason, not that he would ever admit that.

Part of him considered going to look for the Winchesters, but three years was a long time. There was no guarantee that he'd be able to find them, and the way their ribs were marked kept him from being able to locate them just by merely wishing to know. The problem was that all the angels were gone now. Gabriel literally had nowhere in the world to go, and that was troubling.

Maybe Nebraska wasn't such a bad idea. He would surely be in danger there, but at the same time, if the Winchesters were even half as smart as they claimed to be, that's where he'd find them. Somehow, finding the Winchesters seemed like his best move at this point. Unless they were dead, but he couldn't bring himself to believe that.

Gabriel continued to watch the news, looking for any more information he could glean before flying to Nebraska. He didn't want to simply appear inside of a demonic trap with no warning. It was too much to hope that there weren't demons in the town already. There was no way a beacon like this news report would simply be ignored.

That made Gabriel wonder who exactly was in charge of hell right now. Following the chaos of Lucifer attempting to end the world, things had probably gotten a little crazy. Unfortunately, Gabriel couldn't Google answers to the majority of his questions, and he was suddenly more eager than ever to go to Nebraska. He could be subtle, and he could watch without getting involved. If he saw the Winchesters, great. If he didn't, well, he could always return to Colorado. Nobody knew to find him at his cabin, except maybe Castiel, but if the seraph was still alive, he'd be fallen and memory-less too, so Gabriel didn't expect to ever find him.

Gabriel forced himself to refocus on the television before he made himself even sadder. He couldn't save his family now. All he could do was try and figure out what the hell had happened, and maybe protect the now human angels from their enemies. He wasn't even confident he could do that, but it was worth trying.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:**

**This fic makes me so happy. I love my plan for it, and I can't stay away from it for long. I actually meant to get a new chapter out a few days ago, but I've been super busy with work and finals. Now I'm free though, so have chapter 7! Thanks to bespectacledfanwarrior, .169, jojospn, and MrowCat for their reviews on chapter 6! You guys are why I love writing on here!**

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Till We Come Face To Face**

Dean and Castiel drove into Seward, Nebraska at fifteen minutes past nine the next morning. They had both risen early without the help of the alarm clock, desperate to get to Nebraska before it was too late. So far, the town was underwhelming. It looked the same as any other midwestern town, with no apparent signs of demonic activity just yet.

Flashing his fake badge, Dean managed to get an update on the missing persons cases, which ended up telling him nothing important besides where the former angels were staying. He and Castiel decided to park the Impala a few blocks away and go in cautiously, not sure what they were going to find.

They were only a block away from the hotel the fallen angels were in when Castiel suddenly tackled Dean into an alley between buildings, putting his hand over the hunter's mouth and glaring at him until he relaxed and stopped fighting. Castiel paused for almost two minutes before finally releasing Dean.

"What the hell, man?" Dean demanded, brushing dirt off of his jacket.

"Demons," Castiel spat, his expression angry.

"Wait, how can you tell?" Dean asked, confused.

"I can still see their true faces," Castiel replied, relaxing enough to look pleased with that revelation.

Dean lit up and grinned at Castiel. "Dude, seriously? That's freaking awesome! You're like a built in demon detector!" Dean had been able to see the true faces of demons once in his life, when he had half a foot in hell as a result of his deal. It was a terrifying skill, but pretty damn useful. A dim memory in the back of his mind reminded him that Anna had been able to see demonic faces while she was human as well, and he felt reassured by the memory. Retaining echoes of their celestial past must be normal for fallen angels.

"For me, it is helpful," Castiel acknowledged. "For my brothers and sisters, however, it will be a terrifying experience, for they will not know what they are seeing."

Dean winced. "Good point. How about we rescue them before that happens then?" His phone beeped, and he pulled it out to check the text. "Garth's already in the hotel, he got here a few hours ago. He says to be careful getting in." Dean made a noise of derision and frowned. "Figures Garth can get in easy. He's good at staying off the radar. You, me, and Sam are like the most wanted of the supernatural world. I can't remember the last time we went up against something that didn't already know who we were." The thought made Dean nostalgic for his youth, when he and Sam were such green hunters, and anything they went up against was a new and different challenge. Even after Stanford that had been true, up until they had gotten clued into Azazel's plans for Sam. Everything went downhill from there. Well, except for meeting Castiel. That part had been pretty good, once they got past Dean stabbing him in the chest and Castiel threatening to throw him back into hell every five minutes. They hadn't had a conversation like that in years, and the fallen angel was a true friend. So maybe there were some benefits to being every demon's most wanted prize.

"With my ability to tell the demons from the humans, we should be able to get inside with ease," Castiel said confidently. "Shall we go in the back?"

Nodding, Dean headed down the alley so they could circle around to the hotel from the opposite direction. "Backdoor it is. Come on, let's go save some angels."

* * *

Gabriel was exhausted, and even the Skittles he was eating by the bag weren't helping. He'd trained himself a long time ago to receive a recharging boost from sugar and caffeine, which was what he basically subsisted on, but the fragile state of his grace meant that those things weren't as helpful as they used to be.

Between the flight to Nebraska and the effort Gabriel was going to to hide his grace from the demons he knew were in the building, he couldn't do much besides stand and watch. Right now he was relaxing against the side of the vending machine on the fourth floor. The fallen angels were down the fall from him, and so far nothing had happened. He had seen several demons, but they weren't doing anything, and they couldn't sense him. At least he could mask his grace, that was something. He used a tiny fraction of his grace to summon more Skittles from the machine, downing the bag in one gulp.

"Cas, hurry up!" A voice Gabriel would recognize anywhere came out of the stairwell a few doors down from where the archangel was standing.

"This...is...a lot...of stairs!" Castiel growled back, reaching the top and pushing out of the doorway with Dean, who was smirking at him.

"You are such a lightweight. What is all that muscle you've got, just decoration?" Dean rolled his eyes at him and pulled him into the hallway, scanning the door numbers. "Come on, this way."

It took Gabriel a minute to remember that he was disguised as a maid, which would explain why Dean's eyes barely acknowledged him in his surveillance of the hallway. For a split second Gabriel considered revealing himself, but he stopped. He had promised himself that he would watch for now. No sense in letting the wrong people know that an archangel was on the scene just yet.

Dean and Castiel had disappeared quickly into a room a few doors down from the fallen angels, and a scrawny man poked his head out to give the hallway a cursory glance before pulling back in and shutting the door.

Gabriel would have loved to be a fly on the wall in that room, but that would require more energy than he could currently expend. While he waited, he could consider the bizarre fact that Dean was with Castiel. How in the hell had he managed to save his pet angel? Gabriel couldn't fathom how Castiel had been exempt from the curse that seemed to have befallen them all. Then again, he had clearly gotten tired on the stairs, which suggested he was as human as the rest. Why was he with Dean, then? How did he know who Dean was? It didn't make any sense for one angel to retain his memories when the rest had not. Gabriel was frustrated by his confusion, and resolved to go after them both and demand answers as soon as this situation was taken care of.

* * *

"Do we have a plan? Cause I don't really want to fight a horde of demons to get these angels to safety," Garth was saying, looking nervous as if he expected the aforementioned demons to pop out of the walls.

"I say we be a little truthful," Dean offered. "Go in as law enforcement, tell them that someone's after them, and get them the hell out of town."

"They will trust me," Castiel added, certainty in his voice. "They will be able to sense that they can trust me, like we are family. They may no longer know me, but they will trust me." He tone became sad, and his expression looked wistful.

"That will help, Cas," Dean told him, his voice reassuring as he laid a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "We'll keep them safe, I promise."

Garth looked between the two of them with a raised eyebrow, but didn't comment. "Well, I say we do this sooner rather than later. Dean, you and I should be the officials, since we're already in suits." He hesitated, glancing at Castiel. "You...you look like Dean."

Castiel looked unreasonably pleased by that, and smiled at Garth as though the comment had been a compliment. "Thank you, Garth."

Garth smirked at Dean, who rolled his eyes. "His point was that you're dressed like a hunter, not an FBI agent," Dean clarified for Castiel. "Garth and I will do the talking, and you'll be backup. For now, we need to act as normal as possible to get these guys to safety. If the demons come in, that all goes out the window and we go out guns blazing. Everybody on board?" He looked between Garth and Castiel, who both nodded firmly. "Alright then, let's go."

After triple-checking their weapons, and Dean sliding the demon blade into an easily accessible spot, the trio headed out into the hallway. Dean was vaguely aware that the maid he had seen when they got to this floor was still by the vending machine, munching on brightly colored candy. That seemed off to Dean, but not for any good reason. "Cas, the maid's not a demon, is she?"

Castiel frowned at the maid, but shook his head. "No...but something is off. I cannot say what. I do not think she is a threat though."

"Alright, let's go," Dean said reluctantly, striding purposefully over to the door of the angels. He knocked confidently, and stood next to Garth, looking distinctly imposing next to the scrawny and frankly adolescent looking hunter.

The door opened, and a timid woman stood before them. "Yes?"

Dean and Garth held up their badges in one synchronized movement, Dean doing the talking. "Ma'am, we're with the FBI. We have urgent news regarding your case. May we speak with you?"

"Um...yes, that's fine." The woman stood back to let them in, where they saw two wary men sitting on the couch. "What's happening?" The woman asked as she shut the door.

"I can't tell you everything," Dean began, "but the three of you are in serious danger. There are people coming for you, and we need to get you out of town, now."

"We can't just leave!" One of the men protested, his overgrown bangs hanging in front of his eyes.

"None of you are from this town, and nobody here knows you at all. Why would you need to stay?" Dean countered, raising an eyebrow as if daring them to argue.

The same man hesitated, but eventually nodded and looked at the other two. "He's right. If we need to leave, we should go."

"When?" The other man asked.

"Now," Dean said firmly. "The longer we delay, the more likely we are to run into opposition."

The woman looked sufficiently frightened at that, and ran to start packing, indicating for the men to do the same. The room was large, and there were three bedroom offshoots of the main room. Each former angel walked into their own room and began opening drawers to empty them of clothing.

"Fifteen minutes!" Dean called, checking his watch. He turned to Garth, who was looking rather pleased with himself, and Castiel, who looked simultaneously relieved and depressed. "They'll be okay, guys," Dean reassured them quietly, speaking mostly to Castiel. "We're going to do this."

**BOOM.**

A sudden explosion caused the entire building to shake, and all three of the former angels ran back into the main room.

"What was that?" The woman demanded, her eyes wide with panic.

"Dammit," Dean cursed, scowling at nothing in particular. "We've got incoming company. Garth, get these guys out, no matter what. Cas and I will handle the visitors." He pulled out his gun and knife in two swift motions and turned to face the door.

"You got it," Garth confirmed, turning to the panicked trio behind them. "Come on, guys. I've got to get you to safety."

The door burst open and two black-eyed hotel workers ran in, their expressions twisted into the kind of hatred you never saw on a human's face. "Angelic filth!" One of them spat, eyeing the fallen angels the way a butcher might examine meat.

"Garth, now!" Dean yelled, lurching forward and burying the knife in the chest of the demon who had spoken, shooting the second one in the head simultaneously and clearing the doorway long enough for Garth to lead the former angels out the door and to the stairs.

Dean and Castiel followed closely, weapons at the ready. Castiel wore a fierce battle expression, and looked legitimately terrifying. Dean had transformed from government official to hunter in two seconds flat, and his trained eyes were assessing everything as they moved, including the fact that the maid Castiel had thought was off was no longer by the vending machine. Before he could decide if that was important or not, five more demons appeared from the elevator and came barreling towards them.

"Garth, go!" Dean ordered, checking to make sure the escapees got into the stairwell before launching into the fight with Castiel by his side. There was only one demon knife, but Castiel was not an unskilled fighter, and he could get a demon down on the ground or at least distracted long enough for Dean to stab them for him.

The demon Dean had shot staggered out of the room and headed for them, but wasn't fast enough to escape the flying knife burying itself in the demon's chest. Dean bounded over and retrieved the knife, then glanced around at the corpses he had just created. There was no movement. Seven demons had died, but so had seven humans. Dean hated this part.

"Do we leave them here?" Castiel asked quietly, understanding what Dean was thinking.

"We don't have time to do anything else," Dean admitted, upset by that fact. "We'll call the cops after we leave town and make sure they aren't here long." It was all they could do at this point. "Come on, stairs. We need to cover Garth and the angels."

Castiel nodded and followed Dean's lead. Going down four flights of stairs was much easier than going up them, and they reached the ground floor quickly.

They got outside the hotel quickly and headed towards where Garth had told them he had parked his car, relaxing slightly when Castiel revealed that there were no demons in sight.

They caught up to Garth a block from his car, and took the flanks of the former angels, keeping a sharp eye out for trouble. All three of the now human angels looked frightened, but none of them asked any questions, following Garth without complaint.

"Hello, boys!" An overly excited female voice through out Crowley's patented greeting, turning the words into a pick-up line.

Dean closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, swearing under his breath before turning to face Abaddon. "Hey, you're looking pretty good for a corpse my brother fried to a crisp," he threw out, half as a taunt and half out of genuine curiosity about the fact that Abaddon was in the same host. He made a motion behind his back to Castiel, shaping his hand like a gun and then flicking his keys at the fallen angel in a subtle movement that thankfully went unnoticed.

"Hey, a good host is hard to find," Abaddon said with a shrug. "Sue me, I like this one. Sentimentality, maybe. How is dear little Sammy? He didn't look so hot the last time I saw him. All sunken-eyed and struggling to stand. Is he dead yet?"

Dean bristled, but didn't rise to the bait. "Nah, Sam's tough. That reminds me though. You wouldn't happen to know where a certain swarmy British dick happened to disappear to, do you?" He kept his tone conversational, trying to buy as much time as possible. The others couldn't exactly run off, but if Dean kept Abaddon busy, they might get a chance. He didn't turn around, but he felt Castiel's absence. Hopefully the former angel had understood him.

Abaddon laughed, the hair she'd let down swaying at the motion of her laughter. The girl was beautiful, unlike the thing inside. "Swarmy British dick, huh? I'll be sure to let him know you cared enough to ask. He's a bit tied up at the moment."

Dean decided to take that literally. Abaddon had Crowley prisoner. "What exactly are you doing with him?" He asked, genuinely curious. "He's not even really a demon anymore, so what possible use is he?"

"You'd be surprised," Abaddon told him, smiling at their relatively polite exchange. This was so much more fun than just killing someone. Foreplay was everything. "See, the thing about an almost human demon? They're way more susceptible to torture, and Crowley knows lots of things I'd like to know too. He's ever so helpful. We're such good friends, he lets me call him Fergie now." She grinned, her smile clearly mocking.

In the back of his mind, Dean had a very vague recollection of learning that Crowley's human name had once been Fergus, but he could never in a million years imagine Crowley being alright with anyone calling him Fergie, demonic torturer or not. "Where is he?" Dean asked, keeping his tone casual. He didn't expect an answer, but he couldn't help but feel bad for the not-really-a-demon demon.

"Hell," Abaddon replied, as though it was obvious. "I've got my best and brightest having fun with him while I'm on duty." She indicated Dean as if to say that he was her duty at the moment.

"Well, I'm honored by the personal visit," Dean replied, his tone indicating that he was anything but. "I'm afraid you can't have what you came for though."

"Aw, that's a shame. You and I were getting along so well, sexy!" Abaddon purred at him, winking.

Dean shrugged. "Sorry, I'm not into demons." The sound of a gun being cocked behind him caused him to turn his head. Castiel was back, and he was pointing the Colt at Abaddon's head.

"Where the hell did you find that pea shooter?" Abaddon growled, her good humor gone. She shifted uneasily.

"Garth," Castiel said calmly, "take them and go. Abaddon and I are going to have a chat. At least you already know what this gun is, that makes things simpler."

Dean moved back slightly to allow Castiel to take point. He could remember numerous times he had been terrified of Castiel's power as an angel, and even more times he had watched Castiel put the fear of God in other people. He hadn't necessarily expected to see that again, now that Castiel was human, and there was no way in hell he was taking this moment away from the fallen angel.

"Why don't you just shoot me?" Abaddon demanded, her face stiff with anger but her eyes edged with panic.

"I could do that," Castiel mused, his finger on the trigger and his gaze firm. "Unfortunately, Hell with a leader is substantially better than Hell in chaos. Crowley is clearly no longer capable of leading, and I would rather see control in the pit. However, if you continue to pursue the angels, I will not hesitate to end your life." His tone was dark and powerful, reverberating with the essence of the grace he no longer possessed.

Abaddon pursed her lips at him, but slowly nodded. "I think I can make that deal." She shrugged and added, "It's not like the angels are actually a threat, right?"

Castiel's eyes narrowed, but he didn't argue. "It is definitely true that eliminating them will not benefit you," he confirmed.

She huffed and relaxed, trying to keep her gaze away from the Colt. "Then I accept your terms. You leave me alone, I leave your precious angels alone. Everybody goes home happy."

Dean was pretty sure that was going to come back to bite them in the ass, but it was good enough for now. He didn't comment though, still deferring to Castiel.

The fallen angel nodded once and lowered the Colt. "Agreed."

"Lovely doing business with you," Abaddon said wryly, giving them a mock solute before vanishing.

Dean relaxed and pulled Castiel into a side hug, patting his shoulder and grinning. "Cas, that was awesome. You need to go all badass more often."

Castiel rolled his eyes and shoved the Colt into Dean's hands. "As a human, you have considerably more potentially frightening skill to boast of. I shall defer to you in the department of being a badass."

Dean did a double take at his words and started laughing and pulled Castiel with him towards where they had parked the Impala. "Alright, Cas, whatever you say. You were still pretty freaking awesome back there."

"Thank you," Castiel said simply, but his small smile revealed he was pleased too.

During the time it took them to get to the Impala, Garth called to confirm that they were out of town and he was enroute to Chicago to drop the angels off in a place where they had a little more chance of blending in. Apparently they were insisting on staying together, not knowing anyone else, and Garth was going to stay with them for awhile to help them go to ground.

Dean pulled the Impala out of the parking spot and drove as fast as he could without getting pulled over until he and Castiel were back on the highway. "So," he started, "back on the road to Colorado, then. Let's go find ourselves a Trickster."

"You called?" Gabriel asked from the backseat, his tone colored with amusement.

Dean swerved violently and narrowly missed a guardrail. "SON OF A BITCH!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:**

**I love the response I'm getting from this! It makes me really happy that so many people are enjoying the plot as much as I am! Thanks to jojospn, JessMust7, Talonwhisker, Nikkilouise, and Altamiya for their reviews on chapter 7! Enjoy chapter 8!**

* * *

**Chapter 8 - He Knows His Way In The Dark**

As soon as Dean managed to pull off the road and regain his composure, he was out of the Impala and dragging Gabriel out of the backseat by his jacket color, shoving him up against the side of the car and getting in his face. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!" He bellowed. "I COULD HAVE WRECKED THE CAR!"

Gabriel pushed Dean away, still able to put a small amount of power into the motion to show he wasn't completely helpless. "Geez, Chuckles, my apologies for saving you a drive to Colorado. Would you have preferred me to stay in hiding?"

Dean was still scowling at Gabriel, so Castiel took the brief silence as an invitation to enter the conversation. "Brother, I am grateful that you, at least, were not harmed by this curse."

"Ah, it was a curse then?" Gabriel mused, brushing off his jacket and thinking hard. "What caused it?"

"I did," Castiel replied morosely, hanging his head.

"Shut up, Cas," Dean griped, coming out of his sulk. "This is not your fault, and if I hear you go on a self pity streak again I will slap you."

Castiel made a face at him, but didn't elect to comment further.

Gabriel looked between them with raised eyebrows, then turned back to Castiel. "Cas, no offense, but how the hell are you even here? I saw our siblings fall, and I know how that works. You shouldn't have your memories. You shouldn't have known to look for me, and you shouldn't remember who Dean-o even is."

"It's kind of a long story," Dean muttered, scratching his head uncomfortably. "I'd go into it, but you've kind of been gone for awhile."

"Gabriel, you may read my memories. I will start at your demise and work forward to fill you in," Castiel offered, gesturing at himself as he spoke.

"Thanks, Cas. That'll be way easier." Gabriel stepped forward and laid a hand on the side of Castiel's head, closing his eyes and bowing slightly under the onslaught of information.

Dean watched the brothers in concern, shifting awkwardly as they held their position without moving for several minutes. Neither one spoke, and neither one made any sign that they would be returning to normal. Dean was about to say something when Gabriel straightened up suddenly and backed away from Castiel, breathing hard.

"I die for three years, and this is what happens?" Gabriel complained, rubbing his forehead and moaning. "Can you guys keep the world from exploding for more than a few months at any given time?"

"We stopped the apocalypse!" Dean shot back, miffed at the insinuation that he was bad at his job.

"Not without throwing Sam into the pit!" Gabriel retorted. That part of the apocalypse solution bothered him more than he expected it to, although he wasn't sure why. Having seen what the results of that decision had been in Castiel's mind made him feel sick though. Sam without a soul, followed by Sam with a soul but depressed by his actions without one, followed by Sam plagued by Lucifer, followed by Sam almost dying, followed by Sam volunteering to get himself killed again with these stupid trials. The kid was a freaking martyr, and it bothered Gabriel more than he would have expected.

"That was his idea, and don't think for a second that I didn't try my hardest to talk him out of it," Dean retorted, pissed now.

"Well, from the looks of the memories I just saw, all three of you have dealt with some pretty serious crap while I've been dead." Gabriel paused and turned back to Castiel. "You and I need to have a serious talk about Heaven, Cas," he said seriously.

The former angel winced slightly but nodded, his head bowed in deference to Gabriel.

Dean looked irritated by that, but didn't know what to say, so he inched closer to Castiel and put his hand on the fallen angel's shoulder in comfort.

"Before anything else though, we need to get to your little hidey hole. I'd like to see if I can fix your brother before it's too late." Gabriel tucked a few fallen hairs back into place as he spoke. The fact that Sam was currently dying was buzzing around in his head like an annoying bee, and the only way he could think to fix the problem was to try and fix Sam. He needed the younger Winchester to be alive and okay for some reason.

Dean immediately perked up. "What are we waiting for, then? Get in the car!"

Gabriel was about to remind Dean that he could fly when he realized that it probably wasn't wise for him to expend power on that. If he had a prayer of saving Sam, he would need every speck of his grace he could possible utilize. "Alright, Impala it is. I'd suggest you break a few speed limits, Dean-o."

Ignoring the archangel, Dean gestured for Castiel to get back in the front seat, then slid back into the Impala himself. "This is a three hour drive normally," he informed his passengers. "We're going to get there in two. Hang on."

* * *

The three men made it to the bunker in one piece. Dean was impressed with his driving skills and ability to evade the law. Castiel had been white knuckling it the entire drive, and mostly just seemed happy to be alive. Gabriel looked utterly bored with the speed they'd been traveling, and was out of the car and at the door almost before Dean had parked.

"Can we go in already?" Gabriel huffed at Dean, impatient.

"Alright, relax, short stack. Give me a minute." Dean jogged up to the door and banged out a rhythm he had already arranged with Kevin.

Almost immediately the door swung open, to reveal a very startled young prophet. "Hey, Dean..." he trailed off as he spotted the new addition to their company. "Who...?"

"Gabriel, Kevin. Kevin, Gabriel. Come on, Sam's in his room." Dean gave the introductions very quickly and strode off in the direction of his brother.

"As in Kevin Tran?" Gabriel asked curiously, giving the prophet a once over before following Dean down the hallway.

"The one and only," Dean replied sarcastically, giving him a curious look. "How do you know him already?"

"I don't know him, but I've got all the names of the prophets seared into my brain," Gabriel explained. "I guess Chuck Shurley died, then. I never got to meet him."

"We did," Dean admitted, turning the last corner to Sam's room. "Nice guy. A little too sharing with our personal lives though. Here's Sam." He gestured towards the doorway.

Gabriel moved forward, and his expression grew downcast as he took in Sam's condition. The normally tall and strong hunter looked almost small in his bed. He was hooked up to an IV which was probably feeding him, but his features were sunken and waxy, and he looked entirely too breakable. Moving forward, Gabriel took a deep breath and placed his fingers on Sam's head, automatically healing all of the young hunter's physical ailments. Immediately Sam looked healthier, but he still didn't wake.

"What'd you do?" Dean asked quietly.

"Healed him," Gabriel replied, his voice also low. "He's healthy now, but still comatose. That's a side affect of not completing the trials. I don't know if I can pull him out."

"Try," Dean insisted, his face taut with worry. Castiel appeared behind Dean, placing a hand on his shoulder in a mirror of the comfort Dean had offered earlier.

"I will, Dean," Gabriel promised, his expression serious. Turning back to Sam, Gabriel took a seat on the side of the hunter's bed and took a deep breath. He wasn't sure how to heal someone who had failed to complete the trials. As far as he knew, no one had ever actually tried to complete the trials before, and he didn't know if it was possible to recover from failure. If anyone could though, it would be Sam. Gabriel wouldn't even care if it was someone else, but for some reason the idea of failing Sam was unacceptable. The kid had gone through too much and suffered for too long to succumb to such a painful end.

Steeling himself and closing his eyes in concentration, Gabriel threw his grace into a new contact with Sam, pouring himself into the younger Winchester's soul. This wasn't just a healing. He was searching for Sam within the hunter's body, determined to pull him back out if it was the last thing he did.

Everyone in the room was shocked when a sudden intake of breath pierced the room. Gabriel's eyes snapped open and he pulled back slightly, giving Sam room to sit up.

"Oh my God, Sam!" Dean rushed forward, taking a seat on the other side of the bed from Gabriel and gripping Sam's shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Ugh..." Sam reached up and clutched his head, rubbing at the space between his eyes and blinking rapidly. "I'm not...sure?" He trailed off, having caught sight of Gabriel. "What the hell...?"

"It's complicated," Dean offered, knowing that wasn't really an answer.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "What's so complicated about it? Cas got tricked, all of Heaven fell to Earth, including us dead angels, I popped back up, but because I'm an archangel I still have a little bit of juice, except now I don't, because I just spent it all pulling Sam back from death's door."

Sam was quiet for a moment, processing that. Slowly, he moved to get out of bed, ripping the IV from his arm with a wince and steadying himself on his feet. Dean moved around the bed to join Gabriel, who had gotten to his feet with Sam and looked like he was poised to stop the younger Winchester from falling.

"Can you walk?" Dean asked hesitantly, not sure how fit Sam was feeling.

"Yes, Dean, I'm not an invalid," Sam griped at him, taking a few steps as proof. He turned to Gabriel and engulfed the archangel in a hug, shocking both Gabriel and the rest of the room.

"What are you doing, kiddo?" Gabriel asked with amusement.

"Thank you," Sam murmured, his voice full of sincerity. He pulled back slightly and gazed at Gabriel, his eyes full of emotion that surprised the archangel. "It means a lot that you were willing to do that for me."

Still surprised, Gabriel managed to smile at Sam and nod in acknowledgement. "You're welcome, Samsquatch. It's not so bad. I'll recharge eventually. I just didn't want to leave you there. You don't deserve that." Dean's uncomfortably shifting reminded Gabriel of the presence of Dean and Castiel in the room, and he moved away from Sam to join Castiel at the door. "I'm dubbing the next hour brother bonding. I'm going to go catch up with Cas, and you two can talk about whatever it is you've got to talk about." With that, he set off down the hallway, dragging Castiel along behind him.

"Alright, want to give me a little more detail than the Cliff's Notes Gabriel through at me?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at Dean.

"Sure, Sam. I'll give you the full update if you let me take care of you for at least the next hour. You just woke up from a coma, and I've been worried sick. Let me get some food in you while you relax on the couch. Deal?" The look Dean threw at his brother left little room for arguement.

Sam smiled softly and nodded. "Yeah, I think I'm cool with that."

Satisfied, Dean led him out of the room and down the hall into the kitchen, gesturing towards an empty chair as he entered. "Alright, what do you want to eat?"

"I dunno, Dean. Food, preferably." Sam rubbed his eyes as he sat down, fighting a yawn.

"I think we have some of your health crap in the fridge. How does a salad wrap sound?" Dean through out words he'd heard Sam use based on what he could see in the fridge. Putting lettuce in a tortilla made it a wrap, right?

"That's fine," Sam replied, stretching out his sore limbs. "Come on, give me the low down. What happened after the church?"

"All the angels fell," Dean said, the implications of that still weighing on him. "I pretty much got you the hell out of there after that."

"I remember that part," Sam commented. "When did I lose consciousness?"

"Somewhere between South Dakota and here," Dean replied, tossing various food items together in an attempt to make something he thought Sam would consider food. "We got back here and crashed, and the next morning Cas showed up."

"How the hell did he even remember us?" Sam asked, puzzled.

"Metatron stole his grace for the spell that expelled the angels, then sent Cas to Earth personally. Cas didn't fall, he had his grace stolen." Dean's expression was furious as he related that bit of information, the affront against his angel practically a personal attack.

"Woah," Sam murmured. "Poor Cas. Is he doing okay?"

Dean shrugged. "About as well as can be expected, I guess. He cheered up a lot after we figured out we might have Gabriel back on the scene with some of his powers still intact. Of course, we also might have Lucifer, Michael, and Raphael running around too, which is its own problem."

Sam went white, freezing in place. "Lucifer's back?" He managed to gasp out.

Turning, Dean saw the expression on Sam's face and hurried to reassure him. "Not for sure. Finding Gabriel was kind of a lucky break. Raphael is probably back for sure, but the archangels in the cage? That's still a maybe. We don't have a reason to think that the spell would have affected them, necessarily."

Sam relaxed slightly, and accepted the food Dean handed him, eyeing it skeptically before taking a bite. "What happened to Crowley?" He asked after swallowing.

Dean winced. "Sorry, Abaddon's got him in Hell."

"Oh." Sam looked dejected at that news, and stared morosely at his food.

"I sent Garth back for him, but he was already gone," Dean explained. "We ran into Abaddon in Nebraska and she admitted she's pumping him for information down in Hell. Sorry, Sam. I should have just grabbed him when I grabbed you, but I was a little preoccupied."

"No, Dean, it's okay. I understand. I just feel bad. I mean, it's my fault he can't fight back." Sam picked at the lettuce on his plate absentmindedly.

"No, it isn't," Dean argued, glaring at his brother. "If we get a chance we can try to save him, but I don't want to see you moping because we failed to save a demon, alright? You know he almost killed Sheriff Mills?"

That distracted Sam enough to look up. "Wait, he tried to kill Jody? When?"

"She was the victim we stopped him murdering when we surrendered over the phone," Dean informed him, scowling at nothing in particular. "She narrowly missed choking to death on her own blood."

"Oh, God, that's awful. She's okay though?" Sam asked, worried. He really liked Sheriff Mills, and losing someone else they'd saved would have been really crappy.

"She'll be fine. She was kind of pissed at Crowley though. Apparently he got to her by going on a blind date with her." Dean made a face that clearly said he didn't understand how that had happened.

Sam's lips twitched. "Yeah, she'll be fine. She's a fighter."

"Yeah, well, so are you," Dean pointed out. "You're going to recover, and we're going to go track down Abaddon and see if we've got a snowball's chance of getting Crowley out of Hell, and if we can recover some grace for some of the poor downed angels all over Earth. Sound good?"

Sam had to admit, Dean trying to cheer him up and get him back in the game was helpful. "Yeah, Dean, I think I can manage that."

"Good," Dean replied, satisfied. "Now finish eating that green crap."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:**

**Okay, the vast majority of you guys are awesome, and I love hearing from you. Thanks to FireChildSlytherin5, jojospn, Nikkilouise, theconsultingtardisbananaangel, moria galadrial, JessMust7, bespectacledfanwarrior, ZoetheSka, calcu22, Riceball- 1989, and Sinthija for their reviews on chapter 8! You get a bonus thank you if you understand the difference between subtext and the actual inclusion of a ship, which was a frustrating concept I had to explain after the previous chapter. Regardless, I'm pleased with it and especially grateful to people like ZoetheSka for suggesting that I need to give my ideas to the writers. Compliments like that make it all worthwhile, so thank you so much!**

* * *

**Chapter 9 - Mine Is The Way Of The Lord**

Gabriel ended up towing Castiel into a small office looking room that it didn't appear the Winchesters were using for anything yet. There were a few old chairs, so Gabriel took a seat and gestured for Castiel to do the same.

The former angel was reluctant to comply, but knew this was a conversation he would have to have at some point, and he might as well get it over with.

"Damn, Cas," Gabriel muttered, looking at his younger brother like he was seeing something he couldn't really understand. "I've seen your memories and know your reasoning and everything, and I still don't understand."

"My sins are grave," Castiel replied, his voice low. "I know this better than anyone."

"Cas, I'm not here to put you through the wringer for your poor choices," Gabriel told him, exasperated. "I'd love to know why though. I don't blame you for all the crap with Naomi - who I never liked anyway - and you don't need to be forgiven for what Metatron did to you, because it was all manipulation. You were used. All of that, Cas, all of that I could give a rat's ass about. Before all of that, though, Cas. Purgatory? The souls? Why in the hell? Please, help me understand, because that is the last thing I would ever have imagined you'd do."

Castiel's expression was torn between disbelief at his brother's dismissal of his involvement in the most recent catastrophy, and distress at the pain in Gabriel's voice when he spoke of Castiel's decision regarding the purging of Heaven. "I made truly terrible errors," Castiel began softly. "Stopping the apocalypse came with a cost. Dean left to live a normal life, and even though I resurrected Sam, I knew something was wrong long before I discovered I had failed to retrieve his soul. I did feel bad about that, but it was not something I could fix. I could not bother Dean, I could not bring myself to disturb his new life. I was left to face Raphael's actions alone, and I made the arrangement with Crowley because it seemed..." Castiel drifted off, not wanting to finish his thought. "It seemed like the only choice I had," he finally added, the expression on his face making it clear how much he regretted the decision.

"I'm assuming at some point your pet hunter got through to you?" Gabriel prompted, even though he knew how events had played out.

"It took a long time for me to see reason," Castiel admitted reluctantly. "Dean and I are both quite stubborn, and I refused to see reason until I had killed so many. It was unnecessary, and I had ceased to even care that I had lost what was once so important to me."

Gabriel knew from Castiel's memories that once his sanity had returned to him, when he had decided to give up the souls, his deepest regret was how he had hurt Dean. Even worse though was that he didn't care that he had lost Dean with the power of the souls coursing through him. Gabriel took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he examined the distraught expression on Castiel's face. "It's okay, Cas," He said softly.

Castiel's head jerked up, his expression incredulous. "What is?" He asked, bewildered.

"As the one brother you have at the moment, I forgive you for your sins against us," Gabriel informed him, knowing that he was probably the only angel truly capable of extending such a courtesy to Castiel at the moment, perhaps ever.

"No!" Castiel exclaimed, looking shocked. "That is unacceptable!"

"What? Why?" Gabriel asked, confused.

"I cannot be forgiven for everything!" Castiel protested. "Dean has forgiven me too, and I cannot be afforded such a gift! I do not deserve forgiveness from anyone, least of all you and Dean! Even Sam has forgiven me for everything before, and it is not right!" Castiel put his head in his hands and shook, his body wracked with phantom sobs, though he was not crying.

Gabriel slapped Castiel, the sound ringing around the empty room and causing the former angel to sit up straight and stare at Gabriel with confusion. "Cas, get off the self pity boat," Gabriel demanded. "I have every damn right to forgive you, because you're my brother and I love you, no matter what idiotic things you do. You know what you did was wrong and you did everything you could to make amends. That's why I forgive you. Dean has every right to forgive you, because you're probably the closest thing that guy's got to a friend in the whole world, and he doesn't want to live in a world without you. I'm not making that up, Cas, this is stuff a blind man could see. You may not think you deserve forgiveness, but you're dead wrong. Stop rejecting the free gift you've been given and start moving forward. Your wallowing is only going to hurt you and everyone else, especially Dean."

Castiel took a deep breath, considering Gabriel's words. "I do not mean to reject Dean's forgiveness, or yours," He said slowly. "I still do not believe I have earned it."

"You don't have to earn forgiveness for it to be granted," Gabriel reminded him. "I choose who to forgive and why. Whether or not you deserve it doesn't really play into the matter. As it happens, I think you do deserve it. You're like the little angel that could. Every stupid challenge that crops up you overcome somehow in the end. Usually with the help of the muttonheads in the other room."

Castiel nodded at that. "That is true," he acknowledged. "Thank you, Gabriel. I suppose a hard talk was necessary."

"I'd say so," Gabriel replied, giving the former angel a once over. "Now that that's out of the way, you want to tell me more about our current situation? How likely is it that we're looking at a free Lucifer and Michael?"

"Um...hi?" Kevin peeked his head around the door, looking self conscious and probably a little nervous.

"Hey, prophet, what's up?" Gabriel asked with casual familiarity, gesturing for Kevin to come inside the room.

"Are you alright, Kevin?" Castiel asked gently, noticing the prophet's discomfort.

"I'm good," Kevin replied automatically. "You guys just...make me nervous."

"I'm a fallen angel and Gabriel gave all of his grace to Sam and is currently powerless," Castiel stated matter-of-factly. "For all intents and purposes, we are human at the moment.

"Right, I know," Kevin told him, but he looked more relaxed regardless.

"Did you have something to tell us?" Gabriel asked, looking pointedly at the notebook Kevin was clutching.

Kevin looked down like he'd forgotten he was holding anything. "Oh! Yeah. So, I was actually coming to find you guys anyway when I heard Gabriel's question," He informed them, glancing at Gabriel who just looked mildly interested.

"Do you have news on the occupants of the cage?" Castiel asked with trepidation.

"Yeah..." Kevin drew out the word, looking nervous again. "I don't think you're going to like this."

"Lucifer and Michael are free?" Gabriel guessed, looking at the twitching prophet with sympathy.

Kevin nodded. "It's not just that though."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Of course not. What else?"

"Well..." Kevin drew out that word as well, pausing slightly. "We already knew that the resurrected archangels, you and Raphael, would have pretty limited power, but would at least have power, right?"

"That is correct, continue," Castiel told him solemnly.

"Okay, well, somehow the properties of the cage protected the other archangels somewhat, which basically means that they were resurrected just like you, except they're stronger. Same deal, limited power, just less limited than you." Kevin looked apologetic, like this news was his fault.

"That could be problematic," Castiel said gravely.

"Depends," Gabriel shrugged. "Michael's not really a dick. He's a stink in the mud, but he'll want to save Heaven. We get to him, he'll help us. He might not like it, but he'll help."

Castiel considered that for a minute before nodding. "I suppose that is true. What about Lucifer?"

"Lucifer I would like nothing more than to impale on his own sword," Gabriel said with irritation, "but I'd imagine it might be easier to take a more rational approach."

"Such as? I sincerely doubt we could lure him into the cage once more," Castiel pointed out.

"No, but we don't really need him to be trapped, we just need him to be powerless," Gabriel explained.

Castiel's eyes widened. "You wish to take Lucifer's grace from him?"

"Uh, that sounds hard," Kevin interjected. "Isn't he super powerful?"

"Yep," Gabriel replied, popping the "p" with his lips. "I'd rather see him human with a shot at redemption than rotting away in the cage or destroying the Earth."

Both Castiel and Kevin were quiet. Kevin, because he didn't know enough about the family of angels to really contribute to the topic, and Castiel because he was actually considering the idea.

"If we could take his grace," Castiel finally said, "who would keep it? We couldn't leave it on Earth."

"I'd say we get the boys to lock it up in something none of us can touch," Gabriel suggested. "Once we get Heaven back, we can stick it in a heavy duty vault or something."

Castiel made a thoughtful noise and nodded. "While I would never desire to take a brother's grace," he began, "I can see the merits of your plan."

"Great. Let's go find the boys and fill them in. What do you want to bet they have a thousand and one objections?" Gabriel joked, standing from his chair.

Neither Castiel nor Kevin commented, but both figured Gabriel was probably right.

* * *

As it turned out, Dean thought it was a good idea that was bound to fail, so they shouldn't do it, and Sam thought either Castiel or Gabriel or both would die in the process, and so it was an unacceptable risk.

"We're not losing either one of you," Sam said firmly. "No way in hell."

"What else are we supposed to do with Lucifer?" Gabriel asked exasperatedly. "We've already established that trying to kill him doesn't tend to end well, and getting him back in the cage? Sorry, Sammy, but I'm thinking winning the mental tango with Lucifer was a one trick pony kind of deal."

Sam made a face at him. "Honestly, I'd be lying if I said knowing Lucifer's out there right now didn't scare me," he admitted, "but what scares me more is the idea of losing either one of you two to a fool's errand. We've got bigger fish to fry right now."

Glossing over the fact that somehow he'd managed to become at least as important in Sam's mind as Castiel, Gabriel asked, "What fish exactly are you seeing that are bigger than the freaking Morning Star?" He demanded.

"Oh, gee, I don't know," Sam said sarcastically. "Maybe every angel on Earth, powerless against demons? Or Metatron, ruling Heaven alone? Those seem like pretty big fish."

"Guys, drop the fish analogy," Dean interjected. "Point is, we kind of figured we'd try and repower some of Heaven's finest before we go doing anything crazy."

"Do you have any idea how hard it's going to be to find an angel's grace, then find the right angel?" Gabriel asked incredulously.

"You can since who the angels are and who the grace belongs to though, right?" Sam asked.

"Well...yes..." Gabriel admitted slowly. "I guess I'm probably your biggest help with this idea."

"Yeah, you are." Sam confirmed, turning back to Dean. "Honestly, we should probably divide and conquer. You and Cas should go looking for Raphael and Michael, and Gabriel and I will try and fix some of the fallen."

"I am marginally afraid of Raphael should we actually find him," Castiel pointed out, shifting awkwardly. "He and I did not part on the best of terms."

"Yeah, he's probably pretty pissed at you," Dean admitted. "How about we find Michael first and deal with the cranky one later?"

"Michael I anticipate less animosity from," Castiel acknowledged. "Although I did set him on fire last time we met."

"Eh, I'm sure he's over it," Dean said casually, waving his hand dismissively. "Sam, I think you're probably right. Besides, if you can get some pieces back on the playing field, that'll help a lot."

"There's some pieces I'd like to see back more than others," Sam commented, thinking of some of the angels he had known and actually liked.

"If you find Balthazar..." Castiel started, then stopped, shaking his head and not continuing.

"I'll make sure he knows, Cas. If we find him," Sam assured him, knowing what Castiel meant.

Gabriel knew Castiel had killed Balthazar from his memories, and that had been quite a shock. Balthazar was a pain in the ass, but he was also one of Castiel's oldest friends. Gabriel wasn't particularly fond of him, but he knew that the regret for his murder weighed heavily on Castiel.

"When should we leave?" Dean asked, the question directed more towards Sam than anyone else.

"How about tomorrow morning?" Sam offered. "That way Gabriel can recharge, and the rest of us can get some sleep before we head out."

"Where are you going to get a car?" Dean suddenly asked, remembering that they only had one vehicle, and he was taking the Impala.

Sam shrugged reluctantly. "I'll probably have to steal something," he grumbled.

Gabriel's lips twitched in amusement, but he didn't argue. "Alright then, roadtrip tomorrow. Where to first?"

"I dunno, man. Don't you have like an angel radar or something?" Sam ran his hands through his hair, a habit when he was stressed or just tired.

"We'll see what I can sense when I have more juice," Gabriel told him.

"Sounds like a plan," Dean declared.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:**

**I'm back from my trip, so you get an update! Thank you all for waiting so patiently. Thanks to Nikkilouise, jojospn, FireChildSlytherin5, anna3311234, bespectacledfanwarrior, JessMust7, keacdragon, and Riceball-1989 for their reviews on chapter 9!**

* * *

**Chapter 10 - And Those Who Follow The Path Of The Righteous**

Sam had spent the rest of the evening researching possible sites where grace could have landed. It was to be expected that locating something that had fallen from the sky would be harder when the entire world had been witness to fallen angels. At the moment, Sam was less concerned with finding the angels themselves. What good would locating an amnesiac fallen angel do? None, unless they found that angel's grace first.

By the next morning, Sam had a list of driving destinations, which he presented to Gabriel over breakfast, handing him a map at the same time. "See if you can plan a decent road trip that doesn't cause a lot of backtracking."

"Where are you going?" Gabriel demanded as Sam began to walk away, the drained archangel looking down petulantly at his homework assignment.

"I'm going to go steal a car," Sam griped. "Can you be ready to go in an hour?"

Lips twitching in amusement at Sam's unwillingness to steal, Gabriel nodded in response, turning his attention to the papers in front of him.

Dean and Castiel were already ready to leave, and were dropping Sam off in one of the smaller towns along their way so he could acquire a vehicle, then drive back to pick up Gabriel.

As Sam stepped out of the Impala, he reached forward to pat Dean on the shoulder. "Good luck, guys," he told them sincerely.

"Thank you, Sam," Castiel responded.

Dean nodded and gave Sam a look that clearly meant "Be safe," and then the door was shut and the Impala was driving away.

Eager to pick up Gabriel and get on the road, Sam didn't spend much time worrying over his car choice. He picked an old Toyota that looked like it was in good condition, and to his relief was able to get it running with a little work.

The drive back to the bunker was about twenty minutes, and Gabriel was already waiting outside when Sam pulled up, hopping into the car without comment and spreading out the road map Sam had given him.

"Where to?" Sam prompted, not sure which location was closest on the list he'd given Gabriel.

"Head North," Gabriel instructed. "Closest spot is a field in the middle of nowhere, but still in Kansas. I'm not really a map kind of person," he made a face at the piece of paper that, had his grace been replenished, might have set it on fire. "Anyway, I think I've got a decent idea of how to get there from here."

Sam found that amusing, but didn't comment. Instead, he messed with the radio until he found one of those stations boasting to be the best of the 80's, 90's, and today, and turned the volume down enough that conversation was still possible. Something he vaguely identified as Justin Timberlake was coming out of the speakers, but he ignored it, glancing at Gabriel periodically as though checking to make sure he was still there.

After about half an hour of this, Gabriel finally interrupted the relative calm of the trip. "Why do you keep staring at me, kiddo?" He asked with a sigh, looking tired all of a sudden. "I'm not going to fly off on you. My grace is still too low for that."

"No, it's not that," Sam countered, not sure he knew how to explain. "It's just...it's weird, you know? Having you here. In more ways than one, actually. I mean, you were dead. Like, actually really dead. So yeah, it's weird to have you sitting next to me in this car because of that, and it's kind of distracting. Weirder though, is the fact that you're voluntarily sticking around. I would've thought you'd be back to punishing douchebags the instant you were raised, but for some reason you went looking for us, and you're sticking around." Sam cut off his monologue and shrugged. "It's just...weird."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "You need a new adjective, Samsquatch."

"My mental thesaurus goes to hell when I start babbling," Sam muttered.

Gabriel chuckled at that. "Well, I'll agree with you anyway. It is weird. You want to know how my last few days have gone?" When Sam shot him a curious look, he took that as consent and continued. "So, I wake up with really garbled memories, and I realize that my older brother killed me. Not exactly a fun realization. Then it occurs to me that I'm in the middle of nowhere, in some clearing for no apparent reason."

"That's where I buried you," Sam interrupted to explain. At Gabriel's dumbfounded look, he shrugged. "What? It seemed like the right thing to do."

"You went back to Elysian Fields?" Gabriel asked in shock. "Why in the hell would you do something like that?"

Sam shot him a scolding look. "Because I wanted to be there to see if I could do anything. Obviously I was too late, so I did what I could. If it makes you feel better, Dean wanted to just get the hell out of there and not look back."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Right, so Dean-o's the smart one. Well, we're doomed."

Sam's lips twitched at that, but he didn't comment. He knew that Dean was smarter than anyone gave him credit for, but arguing his brother's intelligence with Gabriel would be time consuming and pointless.

"Alright, so I woke up in the clearing where you buried me then. Thanks, I guess." Gabriel shifted uncomfortable for a moment, then continued his story. "As soon as I got access to the rest of the world, I caught up on world news. Good job with the apocalypse, by the way. How the hell'd you convince Dean to let you say yes to Lucifer?"

"I don't even know," Sam admitted. "He was dead set against it at first, then out of the blue he told me that he trusted me to be able to beat Lucifer. I couldn't have done it without him though. Lucifer was beating the shit out of him, and that was what gave me the strength to take over."

"Huh." Gabriel was quiet for a moment, considering that. "I saw the aftermath of that in my brother's memories. Do you still have nightmares?"

Sam was quiet for a moment, the soft beat of the radio and the running engine the only noises. "Sometimes," he finally answered. "Not as bad as before, when I almost died, but yeah, sometimes."

Gabriel thought of the image he'd seen in Castiel's head of Sam in a hospital bed, Lucifer doing his best to kill the hunter through sleep deprivation. "Call me curious, Sammy, but why'd you forgive Cas?"

Giving Gabriel a double take, Sam was too shocked to answer for a moment. "What, you think I shouldn't have?"

"I'm not saying that," Gabriel disagreed. "I've already forgiven him too, and he practically had a conniption fit over it. He doesn't think he deserves forgiveness, which is it's own problem. I know why I forgave him, and it's obvious why Dean forgave him, so I'm just curious why you did."

It took Sam a minute to formulate an answer he was pleased with. "Cas did some awful things," he admitted. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't pissed at him for removing the wall in my head, but then there's part of me that think it would have happened eventually anyway. When Cas took Lucifer out of my head for me, that was what made me forgive him, even if I didn't necessarily admit it right then and there. Whatever Cas did, he always thought he was doing the right thing. I guess the fact that I knew he had good motivations helped me understand what he did. Not that I was at all okay with his decisions, but I couldn't hate him, I guess. Taking Lucifer out of my head was the only thing he felt he could do to apologize to me, and that was enough for me. I think more than anything he did it to prove to Dean that he wanted to make amends." Sam shrugged and blew out a breath slowly. "So yeah, that's why I forgave him. He tried."

Gabriel made an understanding noise in his throat and stretched slightly in the seat. "Thanks, Sammy."

"For what?" Sam asked curiously.

Gabriel shrugged. "Letting Cas be part of your family. It means a lot to him, I saw it in his mind. As far as he's concerned, you and Dean are the only people he cares about that he's positive won't try to kill him."

"That's depressing," Sam muttered, sighing tiredly. "I wish that wasn't true."

"Well, it is, and it probably isn't going to change soon, so thank you. As his big brother, I can appreciate that he found somewhere to call home. I don't think Heaven was ever really the right place for Cas anyway." Gabriel gazed upward contemplatively. "It's his home, but I don't think it's where he belongs."

Sam didn't have a real response for that, so he let the conversation drift into silence, and turned the radio up a few clicks, humming along to something he thought was probably ABBA. Only two hours to their first stop. With any luck, they would find their first angelic grace. Even if they couldn't find the owner, at least it would be safe from demons.

* * *

Dean and Castiel were driving to Maryland because they really didn't know where else to start looking. Castiel didn't know Michael's relationship with Earth well enough to know where the archangel might go, so they were headed to where he would have been released, at the entrance to Lucifer's cage. It was about a twenty hour drive, and Dean was determined to make it in two days.

"You need to teach me how to drive," Castiel pointed out.

Dean huffed out a sigh, rubbing his forehead wearily in anticipation. "Yeah, I know, but that's going to take time, and I'd rather you practiced on something else." He rubbed his hand over the steering wheel absentmindedly.

"I can understand that," Castiel assured him. "I would not want to risk damaging your car. I believe that scenario would end badly for me."

Dean shot him a look. "What, you think I'd beat you up or something?" At Castiel's shrug, he made a face. "Relax, Cas. I would never react like that to anybody I cared about, especially you. If you broke my baby I'd be pissed as hell, but I can't seem to give you much more punishment than the silent treatment."

"I am not a fan of that," Castiel informed him. "I enjoy conversing with you."

"Yeah, well." Dean shrugged. "I've never been able to keep it up very long anyway. I'm not good at staying mad at you."

"That is a character trait I would be relieved to see develop in my siblings," Castiel muttered.

"Worried about Michael or Raphael?" Dean asked curiously.

"Well, the archangels are a concern," Castiel acknowledged, "though I was thinking more of the angels I slaughtered in Heaven, the ones I murdered."

"Oh." Dean didn't have a good response to that. So many of the angels that would have been thrust onto Earth would be resurrected angels Castiel had killed himself. Once their graces were restored, how many would come after him?

Castiel sighed quietly and stared at his hands.

"You know, even if they don't forgive you, Cas, there will be ones who do. Gabriel did, didn't he?" Dean offered hopefully.

"I didn't kill Gabriel," Castiel reminded him, but his expression was moderately less melancholy.

"Well, I'm sure your siblings will forgive you, Cas. The ones that don't, that's their loss. Gabriel will back you up, and so will Sam and I." Dean tapped Castiel on the shoulder with his right hand, trying to be encouraging. "Don't get discouraged before we've even started."

Castiel allowed himself a small smile, and nodded at Dean. "Alright. I can maintain hope for now."

"Good," Dean said approvingly. "Hey, you can pick the music for the next hour or so of driving if that'll cheer you up."

Castiel raised an eyebrow, surprised. Dean didn't let anyone mess with his music in the car. Castiel had been witness to several slapping wars between Dean and Sam when Sam had decided he'd had enough of Metallica for one day. "Can we listen to something...classical?" He asked quietly.

Dean knew he didn't mean classic rock, so he fiddled around with the radio until he found a classical music station. Something was playing on a piano, and Dean had to admit it sounded peaceful. "What is this?" He asked, curious.

"Beethoven, I believe," Castiel murmured, his eyes closed and his head back in relaxation.

Pleased with the sudden lack of tension, Dean decided the classical music could stay, and focused on the road. He had a long way to go.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:**

**You guys have been incredibly encouraging, and I'm loving the reactions! Given that this is my first fic that I'm dedicating 90% of my attention to plot over shipping, I'm eternally grateful to the sheer number of you that keep saying that this sounds like it could be canon, even if, as several of you have stated, you unfortunately doubt it will be. It means a lot!**

**Thanks to jojospn, bespectacledfanwarrior, anna3311234, keacdragon, FireChildSlytherin5, FallenAngel2487, shadowdancer33996, JessMust7, and Riceball-1989 for their reviews on chapter 10!**

* * *

**Chapter 11 - Shall Have Their Reward**

It was blatantly obvious where the grace had landed when Sam and Gabriel pulled into the field. Even if there hadn't been a small crater, the flourishing and flowering shrubbery that had sprouted in the middle of what was otherwise farmland was clearly out of place.

Gabriel was out of the car almost before the engine was off, bolting towards the bush and kneeling down beside it, holding his hands up and closing his eyes, but not actually touching the plant.

Unwilling to disturb him, Sam took a vial from the back of the car and walked up behind the archangel, keeping quiet. Mesmerized, he watched as a practically milky blue substance seemed to be edging slowly from the shrub and into Gabriel's waiting hands. Almost on instinct, Sam handed Gabriel the vial and watched as the archangel easily guided the grace into the vial, screwing the lid shut and pocketing it. He stood almost immediately and nodded his head, as though agreeing with something, before turning to Sam.

"Why didn't it burn out my eyes or something?" Sam asked, the fact that he'd just witnessed pure grace starting to occur to him.

"Because it's kind of in stasis," Gabriel replied. "If the angel it belongs to, in this case, Hester, were to activate it, then you'd want to shut your eyes."

"Hester," Sam mused, his expression distant. "I feel like we met her at some point."

"I saw her in more recent memories Cas had, but I'm not sure what she was doing. I think she was killed by a demon?" Gabriel left the last part as a question. The particular memory hadn't been supremely important in light of some of the other news Castiel had given him.

Sam's expression cleared up immediately. "That was Hester," he said, his tone understanding. "She was part of Castiel's old garrison, right?"

"Yeah, but she was kind of cold," Gabriel replied with a shrug. "She was young when I left Heaven, but I never really saw a point in getting to know her. How did you guys meet her?"

"She and another angel - I don't remember his name - tried to take Kevin from us right after we found him. Cas tried to stop them, and Hester tried to kill him for intervening. Meg is the demon that stabbed her." Sam made a face when he mentioned the demon. "She was trying to save Cas."

"Why?" Gabriel asked, puzzled. "What possible interest could a demon have in an angel?"

"Honestly?" Sam shrugged. "I kind of always thought she had a soft spot for him. She basically took care of him when he went insane, and she's dead now because she was protecting the three of us. Of course, only a few years ago she was siding with Lucifer, and before that she possessed me, and before that she tried to murder Dean and I and our dad, so we had kind of a rocky relationship."

Gabriel gaped at him. "Story time with you is the weirdest thing," he muttered after a minute. "I thought my life was interesting. Geez, Sammy. Take a breather and make some nice human friends, huh?"

Sam made a face at him. "We have human friends!" He protested. "There's Kevin for starters," he pointed out.

"I get the distinct impression that Kevin would be out of your lives in a heartbeat if he had a choice," Gabriel informed him. "I like him, but he does not like this life."

Sam's expression looked weary for a moment. "Yeah, I know. I feel for him, I really do, but he's too important to just go live a life, you know? He knows that, and he's willing to help a lot more now than he used to be. I don't think he can ever go home again, which really sucks."

Not pleased with the sudden drop in mood, Gabriel nudged Sam. "Alright, what about other human friends that aren't forced to be in your company by threat of certain death?"

Sam made a face at him, but smiled slightly as well. "I'd call Garth a friend," Sam commented. "We've also got Sheriff Mills and Charlie." His eyes suddenly lit up, and he grinned at Gabriel. "Oh man, she would get a kick out of you."

"Oh?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

Amused now, Sam just winked at him and dug out his cell phone. "You guys will get along, trust me."

**Sam Winchester: ****Hey, where are you?**

He sent the text to Charlie and turned his phone screen off, turning back to Gabriel. "So, that was the only spot in Kansas, right?"

Gabriel nodded. "Yep," he answered, popping his lips on the 'p'. "And all we've got to show for it is a seraph that's already tried to kill Cas. Super."

"Hey, the situation is different now," Sam pointed out. "For one, all the angels should be on the same side now."

"Still." Gabriel did not look pleased. "I'm hoping we find more friendlies than we do potential enemies."

"You and me both," Sam muttered. His phone chirped at him, and he looked down to read the incoming text.

**Charlie Bradbury: ****Partying in Vegas for the weekend. What's up?**

Sam grinned and waved his phone at Gabriel. "Anything on that list in Nevada?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes upward as he thought. "Yeah, I think there's a couple of spots. Several in Colorado too, which is between here and there. Why?"

"You know what they say, all work no play and all that," Sam told him, shooting Charlie a quick text.

**Sam Winchester: ****I'm headed that direction with an old friend in the next day or two. Want to meet up?**

"I can get behind that philosophy," Gabriel said with a grin.

There was another chirp of Sam's phone as he commented, "I thought that might jive with you."

**Charlie Bradbury: ****As long as I'm not about to be eaten by invading aliens, I'm down with that.**

**Sam Winchester: ****No worries, just a social call. I swear, no aliens.**

* * *

"Cas, check my phone. It's probably Sam," Dean instructed, tossing the gadget at his front seat passenger.

Castiel fumbled with the phone for a moment before figuring out how to check the text messages. "Sam is informing you that he and Gabriel have recovered one angel's grace thus far. It belong to...oh." Castiel's face fell, and he looked upset.

"What's wrong?" Dean demanded, looking concerned and half outstretching his hand for the phone.

"They found the grace of Hester, a former member of my garrison," Castiel explained, watching Dean to see if the name would jog any memories.

Dean seemed confused for a moment, before awareness flooded his expression. "Is that the chick that Meg...?" He trailed off, leaving the question open.

"Yes," Castiel confirmed, his tone disheartened. "I had hoped that the first grace recovered would not belong to an angel who wished me dead, although the odds were not in my favor in that regard."

Dean made an irritated noise with his throat. "Cas, just because that's the first grace they found doesn't mean it'll be the first angel they're able to restore. For all you know, they'll get a huge collection of grace and end up finding someone like..." He trailed off, looking puzzled.

"You can't think of any angels that would be friendly, can you?" Castiel accused. "All the names you can think of either belong to angels who wanted me dead or angels I killed." Depression set in on his expression once more.

Dean huffed, hating that Castiel was right. "Well, what about Alfie? What if Sam and Gabriel restore him first?"

Castiel threw him a confused expression. "I do not know who you are referring to," he admitted.

"He had a long ass name," Dean complained. "Samanmanderel or something like that."

Understanding flooded Castiel's expression, followed by a wave of unmeasured sadness. "Samandriel," he whispered. "He was so much younger than I. It should have been my job to protect him."

"Hey!" Dean barked at him, catching Castiel's attention. "That happened under Naomi's orders, right? So you did not kill him, and he'll forgive you. I'm sure of it, he seemed like a nice kid."

In spite of himself, Castiel had to smile. "Dean, Samandriel was far older than you," he pointed out.

"Is it my fault his vessel was a damn teenager?" Dean griped.

Amused, Castiel lapsed into silence, considering Dean's words. Would Samandriel really forgive him? It was true that that particular murder had not truly been Castiel's doing, even though he had been the tool used. He would never have killed his brother like that.

"Now what are you thinking about?" Dean prompted, distracted by the contemplative look on Castiel's face.

"I am trying to decide if you are right to be so optimistic," Castiel explained. "I do not gravitate towards the same hope, it would seem."

"I think believing in what seems unlikely or impossible is kind of a human thing, Cas," Dean offered as an explanation.

Castiel looked hesitant before saying, "I am human, Dean."

Dean made a face at him. "I know that, Cas, but you're also...not. I mean, I get that physically you're human now, like legitimately human, but you're still an angel. That's just a part of you that's never going to fade. To me, you'll always be an angel."

Castiel gazed at him with an unfathomable expression in his eyes. "Truly?" He finally asked.

"What?" Dean shot him a look before returning his eyes to the road.

"Is that how you honestly perceive me, even in this state?" Castiel inquired with more detail.

"Well...yeah," Dean replied, sounding surprised. "You don't turn being an angel on and off, Cas. You may not have your grace, but as far as I'm concerned, you're still as angelic as it gets."

For whatever reason, this particular conversation served to provide more encouragement and hope to Castiel than any other assurances Dean had thus far offered, and the two of them traveled in relative quiet and comfort for the rest of the evening, stopping late at night to get some rest before Dean would drive the rest of the way to Maryland in the morning.

* * *

Abaddon turned the dials on the electric device she had Crowley wired up to, enjoying the way the man's body writhed in reaction to what she did. She was reasonably sure he no longer had any information for her, but she was choosing to occupy herself with this entertainment. If she didn't, she'd end up chasing powered down angels again, and there was a deal in place preventing her from doing that. Not that Abaddon was above breaking deals, but she wasn't really in the mood to get into a war with the Winchesters and their pet angel at the moment.

So, with a sufficient level of boredom to handle, Abaddon chose to torture. She could have picked any old soul from Hell, but Crowley was hers. Even better was the fact that he seemed to be under the delicious misconception that Sam Winchester would save him, because Sam was a good person. Abaddon found that hilarious, and relished each day that she got to inform Crowley that he was still her prisoner, and there was no sign of the Winchesters anywhere near Hell.

"Uh, your highness?" A timid voice asked.

"What?" Abaddon replied, clearly bored again already.

"We have a slight...uh, problem?" The voice seemed to grow weaker, if that were possible.

"Define problem," Abaddon instructed. Small problems were easily dealt with. Big problems meant she got to execute underlings, and that always staved off boredom for a few hours.

"Uh...heh." The demon in question popped its head into the room, looking increasingly nervous. "The cage...might be empty?"

Abaddon closed her eyes, allowing rage to fill up her entire form before she turned on the demon. "WHAT?!"

The demon cowered, throwing up hands to shield its body, as if that could stop Abaddon when she wanted to inflict pain.

"Explain!" Abaddon demanded.

"We think whatever caused the angels to fall also tore the archangels from the cage, your highness!" The demon explained quickly. "We didn't notice at first because the cage is sometimes silent for days. It's clear now that there's nothing in it. No trace of any grace or souls."

"Why is the human gone?" Abaddon asked, distracted by that fact. "The curse that affected the angels shouldn't have had any impact on a soul."

"The current theory is that one of the archangels was closely linked to the soul and dragged it with them," the demon offered, still speaking as quickly as possible.

"Probably Michael," Abaddon muttered. "Always one to play the hero, even if he did have a log up his backside. Alright, well that's a new problem to deal with. Apparently I have to find Lucifer now." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Good luck," Crowley whispered from behind her.

"Oh, talking again, are we?" Abaddon asked conversationally, striding over to her typically silent victim.

"Lucifer despises demons," Crowley informed her, his eyes glinting. "Enjoy your throne while it lasts."

Irritated, Abaddon slapped him, but otherwise left him alone, choosing to stride out of the room instead of staying to torment the mostly human further. Apparently she had an archangel to kill.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:**

**You guys have been so generous regarding this story! Those of you who've said that this sounds like it could be canon have made my day, since that was always my intent with it.**

**Thank you to Altamiya, JessMust7, jojospn, bespectacledfanwarrior, keacdragon, FireChildSlytherin5, Treeni, Riceball-1989, Serie11, and DanielleMJSH for their reviews on chapter 11!**

**Unfortunately, guys, I'm going to be out of town and without internet access for the next two weeks. I'm sorry! I swear I will get back to updating this as soon as I get back, but there will be a little bit of a wait. In the meantime, here's chapter 12!**

* * *

**Chapter 12 - And If They Fall**

Sam and Gabriel were able to successfully reach one more place where grace had touched down before the end of the day. Sam felt optimistic about their progress, even if the graces they'd managed to find so far weren't exactly the ones they were hoping for, it was still steps in the right directions. They had hit their first grace spot in Colorado before dark, and according to Gabriel the grace belonged to a seraph named Adriel. The name didn't mean anything to Sam, and Gabriel had just shrugged and said he really didn't know the seraph very well. So, they had a seraph that might or might not be helpful, and another seraph that wanted Castiel dead. Not great progress, but still progress.

Sam wanted to stop at a motel for the night, but Gabriel refused.

"I want to do this quickly, kiddo," he explained. "You sleep in the passenger's seat. I'll drive."

"Hell no!" Sam had quickly replied. "You'll get us killed!" He shrank back slightly under the witheringly glare the archangel gave him.

"Samsquatch, I am a perfectly capable driver. I promise not to crash the car you stole." The pointed reminder that it wasn't actually Sam's car seemed to clinch the argument, and the hunter reluctantly gave up the driver's seat to the archangel.

Despite the fact that it really did seem like Gabriel was a good driver, Sam still couldn't seem to relax enough to fall asleep, his gaze jerking to the road whenever he felt the car swerve or jerk.

"Alright, that's it." Gabriel reached over and tapped Sam's forehead, sending the hunter to sleep. "Much better." Gabriel flipped the radio on, knowing the music wouldn't wake Sam up. It took him awhile to find a station he liked, but eventually he was very poorly bellowing a Journey song, and grinning to himself at the knowledge that Sam would probably smack him if he did this while the hunter was awake.

Gabriel's one-man karaoke show while Sam slept lasted until sunrise, when the hunter began to wake up on his own. Deciding to play nice, Gabriel lowered the volume of the radio and stopped singing, glancing at Sam who looked really confused. It was an amusing expression.

"Did I fall asleep?" Sam asked, his tone bewildered.

"I had to knock you out," Gabriel admitted. "You were really tense about my driving."

"Oh." Sam vaguely remembered that. "Well...thanks, I guess. I feel well rested." He sounded really surprised, but just shrugged and began to stretch. "Ready for me to drive?"

"We'll switch off later. I think we're about an hour from the next bit of grace," Gabriel explained, tossing the papers he'd made at Sam. "You can play navigator if you want."

Sam just stared at him for a second, then started laughing.

"What?" Gabriel asked, not understanding the sudden outburst of mirth.

"Nothing, it's just..." Sam trailed off, still chuckling. "This is just weird. Sleeping in the car, trading drivers, navigating the roads, we're having a real honest-to-God road trip here, except that I kill shit for a living and you're a freaking archangel. It's just funny, that's all."

Gabriel snorted. "You have a strange mind, kiddo. I'll admit, it's definitely a unique situation. You and I make an odd road trip pair for sure. At least Dean and my dear brother have their fatal attraction love affair to sort through."

Sam had turned his attention to the map in front of him, but at Gabriel's words his head whipped back to face Gabriel so fast he might have given himself whiplash. "WHAT?!" He blurted, not sure he'd even heard the archangel correctly.

"What, you haven't noticed?" Gabriel asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Noticed what?" Sam asked, still shocked.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and smirked. "I thought it was obvious."

"What's obvious?" Sam demanded, accentuating each syllable.

"Our brothers are in love with each other, Sammy," Gabriel teased.

Sam scowled at him for the nickname. "How do you figure, _Gabe_?" He accentuated the abbreviation of the archangel's name, trying to be obnoxious.

Gabriel lit up, beaming. "I get a nickname?" He asked excitedly.

Sam was the one to roll his eyes this time. Apparently it was a lot harder to bait an archangel than that. "Whatever. What are you talking about?" He asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.

Following Sam back to the primary conversation, Gabriel chuckled. "How have you not noticed? All that staring! I haven't even been back a week yet and it's driving me nuts! It was there years ago too, so why haven't they done anything about it?"

"You think our brothers are in love because they stare at each other a lot?" Sam asked, unimpressed with Gabriel's logic.

"I'm extrapolating," Gabriel explained with amusement.

"From way too little data," Sam argued. "Staring doesn't equal love."

"No, but when I read baby bro's thoughts, it was obvious. It tinges every single memory he has of Dean." Gabriel tossed out that gem of knowledge, sounding smug.

Sam was quiet for a minute, processing that. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. Cas has got it bad for Dean-o. Problem is, I really doubt he knows how to express it." Gabriel made a face.

"I have no idea if it's mutual," Sam admitted. "I guess it could be, but Dean's kind of got a macho man thing going on, and I doubt he'll break out of that role anytime soon. Not even for a big gay love affair with an angel."

"Angels are genderless," Gabriel offered.

"Yeah, I know," Sam replied. Castiel had mentioned that before at some point. "He's still in a male vessel. Trust me, I know my brother. He's got to get over that before he'll start to clue into any feeling he has."

Gabriel made a thoughtful noise, considering that. "Maybe they just need the right kind of push," He suggested with a grin.

"NO!" Sam practically shouted. "You are not allowed to play matchmaker, Gabe."

Gabriel's lips twitched at the second use of the nickname, this time unconsciously, but just winked in response.

"I'm serious. If you're right that there's really something there, then it's up to them to figure it out," Sam determined. "We are not going to get involved."

"Fine," Gabriel sighed dramatically. "Whatever you say."

"I mean it, Gabe," Sam insisted.

"I said fine!" Gabriel protested. "What, you don't trust me?"

Sam pursed his lips, looking at Gabriel with consideration, but not answering.

It took Gabriel a second to realize that Sam had taken the question seriously and was trying to come up with an answer.

"Yes," Sam finally said tentatively. "I think I do trust you. I also think you're a meddling asshole, which is why I want you to swear to me that you'll let Dean and Cas work out their issues without interference."

Gabriel was too pleased with the fact that Sam actually trusted him to focus much on the rest of that sentence, but he nodded in agreement anyway. "Alright already, deal."

"Good. Now, where are we so I can figure out how close we are to this grace?" Sam held out the map again, squinting to make out the tiny city names.

Gabriel just pointed, then returned his gaze to the road. Maybe there was something to be said for road trips after all.

* * *

Dean was glaring impressively at the church building in front of him, ignoring Castiel's uncomfortable shifting on his right.

"Shouldn't we go in?" Castiel finally asked.

"Yeah, I guess." Dean didn't really show any signs of moving, continuing to scowl at the church.

"Has the edifice offended you, Dean?" Castiel asked pointedly, growing tired of Dean's behavior.

Dean transitioned his gaze to Castiel, his expression turning to irritation. "I don't exactly have happy memories of this place," he pointed out.

Castiel winced at the reminder, but his tone remained steady. "Regardless, we need to take a look around inside. I promise, we'll make it quick."

With a sigh, Dean shoved away the memories of how the apocalypse had begun nearly five years ago and followed Castiel into the church. He wasn't sure whether or not to be surprised, but the building looked almost identical to how it had the last time he'd been there. Creepy statues everywhere, and lots of religious paraphanalia, plus the room with the altar that he wasn't particularly eager to see again.

Castiel took on the task of going into the room where Sam had opened Lucifer's cage, but he returned quickly. "I don't think either of them are here," he said, not sounding particularly surprised.

"I don't suppose praying to Michael would help?" Dean suggested, although the idea of praying to the archangel wasn't one he relished.

"Doubtful, the way Heaven is sealed off," Castiel replied. "We could test the idea though."

"How?" Dean asked, puzzled.

"Pray to Gabriel, and see if you get a response." Castiel shrugged, demonstrating his growing grasp of human mannerisms.

Dean considered that, the nodded. "Worth a shot. Alright, here goes. Dear Gabriel, this is a test prayer. If you can hear me, then stop whatever annoying crap you're doing and text me, or call me or something." He turned to raise an eyebrow at Castiel. "How was that?"

"Not particularly eloquent, but sufficient," Castiel replied, his lips twitching in mild amusement.

A second later, Dean's phone went off, and he held it up to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Dean, are you guys praying to Gabriel?" Sam's voice sounded confused, and that questions was followed by muffled words in the background that sounded like, "Gabe! Keep your eyes on the road and let me talk!"

"Yeah, it was an experiment. Could he actually hear me? Also, why is he driving?" Dean was confused and surprised, although whether by the fact that Sam had let Gabriel drive or the fact that Gabriel could drive, he didn't know.

"He's driving because he can, and because I needed to sleep," Sam informed him. "He couldn't hear the prayer, but he had like a sense that it was you, and he said it felt like a really annoying itching sensation in his brain, whatever that means."

"It means I have a headache," Gabriel grouched loudly, his words partially muffled coming through the phone.

"Huh. So the only real effect of prayer anymore is that you know who's praying to you?" Dean asked for clarification.

"I guess. Gabe said that he keeps getting the itchy feeling, but it'd a side effect of being an archangel named in the Bible. People pray to him a lot, but he's not usually hyper aware of who they are. So, maybe just because he knows you already, that helped him know who was praying?" There was a pause, and something said in the background, then Sam added, "Yeah, we're going with that. Reigning theory, anyway. Why did you guys want to know?"

"Well, we're in Maryland, which is a dead end, not surprisingly, so we were curious whether or not praying to Michael was worth a shot." Dean suggested it hesitantly, unsure how his brother might feel about the idea.

"Huh. Maybe. I guess it's better than nothing. I mean, where else are you going to look? Gabe was easy, because he was looking for us too. I have no idea if Michael will think it's worth the effort. Unless..." Sam trailed off, and muffled the receiver so he could say something to Gabriel.

"Unless what?" Dean demanded, irritated by the pause.

"Just an idea. Have Cas do the praying. Michael's more likely to come for him than you, since they're brothers and all." Sam suggested the idea slowly, as though worried Dean might object.

"That makes sense," Dean admitted. "He doesn't really have any reason to find me important anymore anyway." He ignored the look Castiel shot him at that, like he took offense to Dean devaluing himself.

"That's kind of what I was thinking," Sam replied. "Well, call us back if you find him. We're still in Colorado, almost to another grace. After that we're headed to Nevada."

"Is there more grace in Nevada?" Dean asked.

"There's like two or three in Nevada I think," Sam explained, "but Charlie's in Vegas and I wanted her to meet Gabe."

Dean burst out laughing. "Good luck with that. I'll consider that trip a success if you manage to get out of it with any shred of dignity. Don't let them talk you into strip poker, bitch." He chuckled again, the idea of Charlie and Gabriel together a lot funnier than he would have anticipated.

"Whatever, jerk. I'll call you guys later if the grace is anyone we know. Have fun praying to an archangel that may or may not want you dead," Sam offered jokingly.

"He's probably more pissed at you," Dean pointed out.

"Thanks for the reminder," Sam griped at him. "Seriously though, be careful. Call me if you find anything."

"Will do." Dean hung up the phone and turned back to Castiel. "Sam thinks you should pray for Michael, since he's your brother. He's more likely to try and find you."

Castiel looked nervous at that, but nodded. "That makes sense. I am not sure Michael will be pleased to see me though. The last time we met, I set him on fire." Castiel's expression looked so chagrined at the memory that Dean had to struggle not to smile.

"Still, he cares about you more than me," Dean explained. "Worth a shot, right?"

"I suppose."

"Let's get out of here first," Dean suggested. "I'm still not a fan of this place."

"Me either," a female voice announced, walking around the corner to join Dean and Castiel in the room. "What are you boys doing here?"

"Abaddon," Dean acknowledged with a fierce scowl. "I thought we had a deal?"

"We do," Abaddon assured him. "I'm not here hunting for angels, I assure you."

"Really?" Dean asked skeptically. "What are you hunting for then, sunshine?"

Abaddon chuckled. "Turns out that when that little scribe up in Heaven decided to flip the fall switch he ended up flicking the rise switch with it."

"You're looking for Lucifer," Castiel stated.

"Bingo," Abaddon said, pointing at Castiel as she spoke. "I'm not terribly happy that the contents of the cage were ripped out of Hell, and I'd kind of like to end the threat that is that stupid angelic menace before something catastrophic happens. Which is why, I'm assuming, you're here as well."

"In part," Dean allowed. "So you decided Lucifer was exempt from our deal?"

Abaddon's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Lucifer is a resident of Hell, caged or not. I am well within my rights to pursue him."

Dean cast a glance at Castiel, who looked conflicted. "Well, assuming you catch up with him, would it be too much to ask that you don't kill him?"

"Why?" Abaddon asked, bewildered. "I can understand if you wanted to try and negotiate with Michael, or even save that human, but why the hell do you want Lucifer alive?"

Dean was about to answer that when her words suddenly clicked in his head. "Save...holy crap."

Castiel had figured it out as well, and his eyes were wide. "He's alive?" He demanded.

"According to Hell, there was an intact soul in the cage with Michael and Lucifer up until the spell ripped them out. Honestly, the soul shouldn't have left the cage, but one of the trapped archangels dragged it out with them. I'm assuming it was Michael." Abaddon picked at her fingernails, bored. "Why, do you know him?"

Completely ignoring her, Dean transferred his attention to Castiel, who wore a similar expression of shock. "Cas," Dean breathed, his tone excited. "Adam's alive!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:**

**Thank you guys so much for bearing with me while I was out of town! Never fear, a new chapter is here!**

**Thank you to jojospn, ZoetheSka, keacdragon, Sinthija, FireChildSlytherin5, bespectacledfanwarrior, Riceball-1989, and Geckoshan for their reviews on chapter 12!**

* * *

**Chapter 13 - As Lucifer Fell**

"Dean," Castiel said in a calm voice, like how you would approach a wounded animal, "If he's alive, than he's Michael's vessel still."

The realization derailed Dean's excitement momentarily, but he shook his head and his expression become resolute. "Doesn't matter. I owe it to that kid to save him."

"Do you remember what Sam was like?" Castiel asked gently, completely ignoring the demon queen watching the exchange curiously.

Dean flinched, not appreciating the reminder. "Sam recovered," he offered as a counter.

"Adam has been in the cage for much longer, and would likely not follow the same path of recovery Sam suffered." Castiel said reluctantly. He still felt guilty for his part in Sam's suffering.

"It doesn't matter," Dean repeated, emphasizing each syllable. "I'm going to do the best I freaking can to save that kid."

"If he's so important, why didn't you try to pull him out of the cage like you did with your brother?" Abaddon asked with interest.

"I didn't know that was an option," Dean muttered, feeling defensive. "I couldn't save Sam, either. Cas got him out."

"Not completely," Castiel argued. "Pulling a human from the cage is intensely difficult."

Dean just huffed at that. "I tried to make a deal with Death, but he would only fix Sam or save Adam, not both."

"You picked Sam," Abaddon stated, not asking.

"Yeah." Dean wondered half-heartedly why he was having this conversation with a demon. What did Abaddon's opinion on the situation matter?

"Perfectly understandable," Abaddon commented, picking at her fingernails.

Dean made a face. "I'm so glad I have your approval," he replied sarcastically.

Abaddon chuckled. "Why do you have to be so antagonistic, Dean? Can't we get along? After all, you seemed to have quite the amenable relationship with my predecessor, so why can't we have the same?"

Dean was about to snark back at her when he realized that she was sort of right. He didn't like Crowley by a long shot, but weirdly the now ex-king of Hell had always been, well, almost agreeable. There were definitely times when that wasn't true, and he'd definitely have killed the bastard on multiple occasions had it been a viable option, but weirdly he'd managed to be pretty decent. For a demon.

"See? It's not a terrible idea," Abaddon purred, moving a little closer, but stopping when she saw the look on Castiel's face. She raised her hands in surrender, trying to look innocent. "Believe me, I'd like nothing better than for us to stay out of each other's business. If you don't get in my way, I won't try to kill you or your little friends."

"What exactly does getting in your way entail?" Castiel asked roughly, looking highly skeptical.

"Stopping me from killing Lucifer would be a start," Abaddon pointed out, irritation bleeding through her otherwise calm expression.

Dean made a face. "Why do you need him dead?" He asked. "Can't you just shove him back in his cage?"

"Hardly," Abaddon huffed, rolling her eyes. "The archangels were taken out of the cage by a spell, but not actually pulled through it. They simply vanished, and presumably reappeared topside. The doors of the cage are shut."

Dean glanced at Castiel, who knew full well where the key to Lucifer's cage was. "If you could open the doors, would you push him back in instead of killing him?" Dean hedged.

"Possibly." Abaddon's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Castiel gave Dean a warning glance, but nodded slightly.

"Say the cage could be opened, hypothetically. If one of us finds Lucifer, can we make the deal that he goes back in the cage? If you find him first, you'll need to call us to do it, but still." Dean fumbled his words a little, trying to keep the arrangement sounding hypothetical.

Abaddon snarled at them. "You fools have the keys to Lucifer's cage?" She raged.

"Hypothetically," Dean commented, smirking at the look of irritation she threw him.

"Why trap him when we can kill him?" Abaddon asked again, still confused by that point.

"It would be a shame to have to kill a brother," Castiel said solemnly.

Dean looked at him sympathetically. He knew Castiel had been hopeful of the plan to rehabilitate Lucifer, but it was looking likely that shutting him away again was as good as it was going to get.

Abaddon sighed dramatically and held out her hand. "Fine. Deal. I'll call you idiots if I find him, and we'll throw him back in his cell for the foreseeable future. Sound good?"

"I can work with that," Dean agreed, shaking her hand. "I don't suppose I can convince you to let Crowley go, while we're being civil?"

Abaddon chuckled. "Nice try, but I'm keeping my pet. It's not every day that you get to torture a mostly human demon. I'm enjoying myself far too much."

Dean scowled, but didn't argue. That wasn't a point he wanted to risk a fight over right now. Sam might have made an issue out of it, but Sam was across the country right now.

"I believe our business is done here," Castiel said pointedly, touching Dean's arm lightly in a guiding motion.

"Nice to see you boys again," Abaddon snarked, winking at them both before vanishing.

"I hate demons," Dean muttered.

"I'm not overly fond of them myself," Castiel commented quietly, urging Dean along and outside the church.

Dean sighed and moved away under his own steam, rubbing at his forehead. "Time to pray, Cas. Here's hoping Michael's willing to help, not smite us."

* * *

Gabriel pulled into a outlet on the side of the road next to a forest, eyeing it speculatively. "There should be grace in there somewhere," he commented, parking the car and getting out.

Sam extricated himself from the car, almost tripping over his legs, and grabbed the roof for support. "How are we supposed to figure out which tree?" He asked, feeling disgruntled at the needle-in-a-haystack situation.

"I'll know," was all Gabriel said, moving off into the forest.

Sam followed quietly, leaving Gabriel to his own devices. Really, when it came to locating grace, it was pretty much up to Gabriel to do what he could. Sam was along for the ride more than anything, not really able to be much help.

"We're close," Gabriel informed him after a minute, taking a sharp turn to the left.

Turning awkwardly to follow, Sam asked a question that had been bothering him. "What happens when we've covered North America?"

"What do you mean?" Gabriel asked, not really paying attention.

"Grace didn't only fall in the US, Gabe, it fell all over the world. How are you planning to find the graces that fell in Zimbabwe or Poland or something?" Sam was talking with his hands, which he tended to do when agitated.

"I'll have to do it, probably," Gabriel replied, the look in his eyes not matching the nonchalant look he'd molded his face into.

"You can't travel the world on your own, Gabe," Sam argued. "Your own grace isn't strong enough for that right now."

"What other options are there?" Gabriel asked, meaning the question to be hypothetical.

"Michael could help," Sam suggested.

Gabriel paused and gave Sam a disparaging look. "Really, Sam? Michael and I get along about as well as he and Lucifer do. He's a stickler for the rules, and I've broken them all. He's not a bad guy or anything, but Michael can hold a grudge. I don't expect him to be in a helpful mood."

Sam made a face. "Can't you...I dunno, have a little faith?"

"In what?" Gabriel asked quietly, looking away from Sam and back towards the forest, moving more quickly now.

"In your family!" Sam exclaimed, once again ignoring the rhetorical intent of the archangel's question. "I mean geez, Gabe, I know you don't exactly get along with your brothers, but there's potential for that to be fixed. Hell, you and Cas get along, and there's a whole host of reasons why that shouldn't work!"

Gabriel was still moving quickly, but his expression had turned contemplative. "I guess." He commented.

"Even if you can't make up with Michael," Sam continued, "We are going to eventually find angels we can give graces back to. Those angels will be able to zap themselves all over the world and help collect the rest of the grace, right? We'll find help where we need it, I'm sure of it."

Gabriel sighed and turned back to face Sam again. "How the hell are you so optimistic, Samsquatch? Of everyone in the entire world I have ever met, you have the most reason to be all doom and gloom, but you're as hopeful as a puppy, and it's weird as hell. I don't understand you at all."

"I'm human, Gabe," Sam replied with a small smile. "We tend to be confusing sometimes."

"Most humans aren't even half as complicated to understand as you," Gabriel countered. "Also, most humans would go through half of what you've been through and curl up into a tiny ball of self pity. You've got some freaky endurance or something. I don't get it."

"That's me," Sam murmured. "Sam Winchester, freak."

Gabriel's eyes snapped up to Sam's face at his tone. "Not what I said, kiddo. You might be one weird-ass human, but you're not a freak."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm the walking dictionary definition," he countered.

"Samsquatch, you are anything but a freak. You're pretty freaky in a lot of ways, but you're not a freak." Gabriel made a face at him.

"What the hell does that even mean?" Sam asked, confused now.

"You're freakishly tall, freakishly optimistic, and have freakishly long hair," Gabriel explained. "That just makes you a really fascinating human, not a freak. By the way, the dictionary definition of freak is an aberration, which you are not. Besides, I thought Dean was the self deprecating one."

Sam glossed over Gabriel's points until he got to the last one. "Heh. I think we both got that gene."

"Yeah, well, I'd try not to do that if I were you." Gabriel made a face at him, then smiled. "Hanging out with you isn't as annoying as I'd expected, kiddo. Maybe there's something to be said for road trips."

Sam snorted at the subject change, giving Gabriel a disparaging look. "Honestly, the fact that I haven't gone insane from being with you for so long is a miracle. You're surprisingly entertaining when you aren't killing my only family member or hitting me in the nuts with a bowling ball."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I had valid and important reasons for doing both of those things," he defended himself.

"Whatever. It's not worth re-hashing now," Sam sighed. "We can treat your resurrection as a do-over."

"If that you from hating my guts, which would make for a really awkward road trip, then I'm good with that," Gabriel agreed.

Sam chuckled. "Then it's settled. How close are we to the grace?"

Gabriel pointed. "It's that one."

As soon as he saw it, Sam wondered why he'd even had to ask. The aspen tree was practically glowing it was so beautiful, and the radiance eminating from it was enough that he almost had to look away.

"Do you have a vial?" Gabriel asked, holding his hand out expectantly.

Sam dropped the glass container into Gabriel's hand and turned away slightly, unable to keep looking at the tree.

Gabriel moved forward and repeated the drawing out process he'd been doing with the other trees.

"Hey, Gabe?" Sam asked, another question occurring to him.

"What?" Gabriel replied quietly, his focus on the tree.

"Why did we find Hester's grace?" He furrowed his brow, the discrepancy only now beginning to bother him.

"What do you mean?" Gabriel asked, his tone confused.

"Hester was dead, so shouldn't she have been brought back complete like you and probably Raphael? Why was her grace separate from herself like the angels that fell?" Sam couldn't decide if this was a problem he should be worried about.

Gabriel made a noise of understanding and shook his head. "Different rules. I'm an archangel, that's totally different from a seraph. Her grace would have been resurrected separate from her form. She'll have a body walking around that looks like the vessel she had when she died, but her grace wasn't automatically returned to it, because it doesn't have that kind of power. Mine was kind of an instant connection, because my grace had the power to come back to me." He squinted and focused more intently on the grace he was drawing out.

Sam made a considering noise and nodded. "Okay, so we'll probably run into that again with angels like Balthazar and Samandriel?"

Gabriel grunted, knowing of their demise from Castiel's memories. "Yeah, same thing. I'd like to see both of them back as soon as possible, although I'm concerned about Balthazar's reaction to Cas."

Sam winced. "Yeah, that reunion might not go so well."

"Samandriel will probably be easier though," Gabriel pointed out. "He's the forgive and forget type. Very similar to Cas when he was that age."

"What's the age difference?" Sam wondered. He'd kind of got the idea a long time ago that some angels were older than others, but didn't know how to figure out which ones had that seniority.

"Samandriel was, in human terms, tens of thousands of years younger than Cas. Practically a child in many ways. Cas himself is barely an adult, to phrase it in a way you'll understand." Gabriel made a noise of concentration, twisting his arms slightly as he extricated the grace from the tree.

"Do you have it?" Sam asked quietly.

"Yes," Gabriel replied shortly, his tone irritated.

"What? Who is it?" Sam demanded, concerned.

Gabriel scowled. "Not a friend, and not an angel I consider it a priority to restore."

"Who, Gabe?" Sam demanded again.

"Uriel," Gabriel explained through gritted teeth, watching as the look of realization and anger set into Sam's eyes.

"Yeah, we're not so much a fan of him," Sam commented, looking indignant, as though Uriel had somehow had the audacity to fling his grace into Sam's path.

"I'll take care of Uriel later," Gabriel assured him. "Preferably when we don't have all of Heaven to save. He's not my priority."

"Why haven't we found any helpful angels yet?" Sam griped.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow pointedly until Sam sighed and gave him a disparaging look.

"Other than you," he acknowledged.

Chuckling, Gabriel tucked the vial of grace into his pocket. "We'll find them all eventually, kiddo, don't worry. There's a whole mix of angels in the host. We just have to work on getting them back one by one. This is a marathon, not a sprint."

"I hate that metaphor," Sam grumbled.

"Doesn't make it any less true," Gabriel teased.

"Whatever. Let's go hit up Vegas. There's more grace in Nevada, and we could use a break after that." Sam turned to head back to the car.

"On one condition," Gabriel said, gripping his shoulder.

Sam eyed him warily. "What?"

"You get totally wasted," Gabriel proposed.

"What?" Sam blinked. "Why?"

Gabriel shrugged. "I want to see you drunk."

"Because?" Sam demanded.

Gabriel chuckled. "I think it'd be funny."

"Maybe Vegas is a bad idea," Sam muttered.

"C'mon, Sammy, lighten up! You were right, we need a break. I promise, it'll be fun." Gabriel grinned and through his arm around Sam's shoulders, which was really awkward given the height difference.

"I'm pretty sure I'm going to regret this," Sam sighed.

"Maybe," Gabriel allowed. "I'll enjoy it though. I haven't been to Vegas in ages!"


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:**

**I'm not entirely sure how long this fic is going to end up being, but I'm thinking we've got a ways to go yet. Thank you to everyone who's sticking around for the ride!**

**Thanks to DanielleMJSH, Riceball-1989, dreamerlc, King of Comedy, SkittleMachine, booklover613, FireChildSlytherin5, and shidoni16 for their reviews on chapter 13!**

* * *

**Chapter 14 - The Flame**

"Hey, Sam!" Charlie threw her arms around the tall hunter, hugging him tightly. "It's good to see you!"

Sam hugged her back, holding the girl who was practically his sister tightly. "It's good to see you too, Charlie. I'm glad you're doing okay."

Charlie drew back slightly and gave him a skeptical look. "Are you kidding me? If anyone should be worried, it's me! Dean wasn't exactly forthcoming about the freaky light show we had, and odds are if something big and freaky happens, you guys were involved. I've been dying of curiosity!"

"So you went to Vegas?" Sam asked with amusement.

Charlie shrugged. "I like Vegas," was all she said. Her gaze shifted to Gabriel, who was watching the exchange with amusement. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Gabriel," Sam introduced, stepping back as Charlie moved forward to shake the archangel's hand. "He's an old...friend, I guess." Friend was not the right word for what Gabriel had been before his death, but Sam was starting to consider him a friend now, so the word would have to do.

Charlie eyed him appraisingly. "How'd you guys meet?"

"We-" Sam started to say, but Gabriel cut him off.

"They tried to kill me because I was either killing or pranking college students who totally deserved it," Gabriel informed her, his lips twitching.

Sam glared at him. "Being a jerk doesn't mean someone deserves to be creatively murdered, Gabe," he huffed. It wasn't the first time they'd had that debate.

Charlie glanced back and forth between them quickly, looking wary. "So, what are you?"

"Back then I was the Trickster," Gabriel explained. "I went by Loki."

Charlie's eyes lit up. "AWESOME," she exclaimed, her voice breathless with excitement. "Like in the comics or are we talking more straight up mythology?"

Sam did a double take, the awe in Charlie's voice surprising him.

"Mythology," Gabriel replied, "but I'm a fan of the comics version too."

"Loki is one of my favorite characters," Charlie gushed. "This is awesome."

"Can I take this moment to point out that you aren't actually Loki?" Sam asked Gabriel pointedly.

"I used to be," Gabriel countered. "Just because I retired from being a Trickster to get stabbed by my brother for you doesn't mean I can't bask in the glory of my old achievements."

Sam rolled his eyes, giving up.

Charlie looked puzzled again. "Okay, so who are you now?"

"Gabriel," Gabriel answered, shrugging like that wasn't that big of a deal.

"He's an asshole, has a really warped sense of morals, and drives me nuts, but he's also an archangel," came Sam's more detailed explanation. "And a friend," he added after a pause.

Gabriel had looked irritated at Sam's description, but he relaxed when Sam called him a friend. At least he was starting to redeem himself, even if it was slowly.

Charlie's eyes were wide. "Dude, you're the god of mischief and an archangel?!"

"In the flesh," Gabriel confirmed, smirking at the look on the red-head's face.

Charlie turned to face Sam. "Why do you get all the awesome friends?" She moaned rhetorically.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I knew you two would get along," he sighed, but he was smiling slightly.

"I like her," Gabriel informed him, grinning. "Can we go get drunk now?"

Charlie perked up again, looking excited. "Hell yes, I found a Star Trek bar that you guys have to see."

Sam grimaced. "That's really more Dean's thing," he protested.

"Where is he, anyway?" Charlie asked, ignoring Sam's attempt to reject her idea.

"In Maryland with Cas," Sam replied.

"I want to meet him too," Charlie pointed out suddenly, poking her finger at Sam. "Make them come visit me too. Every time I talk to Dean he mentions this Cas guy at least twice."

"Told you so," Gabriel mouthed at Sam smugly.

Sam rubbed his forehead tiredly, ignoring Gabriel. "I'll pass that along," he promised.

"Great. So, bar now?" Charlie clapped her hands together and grinned broadly.

"Hells yeah," Gabriel replied, throwing an arm around her shoulders. He was actually a few inches taller than her, so they almost looked like they belonged together.

Sam couldn't help but smile, and he rolled his eyes dramatically and threw his hands up. "Fine, I'll come. I am not getting wasted though, we still have to drive across most of Nevada."

Charlie scoffed at him. "C'mon, Sam, have a little fun! I promise, one Red Shirt shot at this place and you'll forget all about driving."

Sam wasn't exactly sure that was reassuring, but he followed them anyway.

The bar wasn't a far walk, and Sam had to admit that it was sort of impressive. The outside looked like a really futuristic building, which was actually mildly calmly for him. He'd half expected to come upon the actual USS Enterprise.

The inside looked a lot like the cafeteria or bar area or whatever it was on the show. He'd never watched with his full attention dedicated, so he wasn't sure what the proper terminology was. He heard Charlie say something to his left about Ten Forward, and that struck him as familiar, so he decided that's what it must be called.

The three of them made their way to the bar, and Charlie ordered them a round of shots in three different colors, three of each.

"What are these?" Sam asked warily when the bright colored drinks appeared.

"Red Shirts," Charlie pointed to the bright red drink, "Engineering Shots," she pointed to the yellow, "and Medical Bays." She indicated the blue shots last.

"What's in them?" Sam rephrased his question, not really trusting the references to pop culture to indicate the toxicity of the drink.

"Who cares, Sammy? Live a little!" Gabriel grabbed an Engineering Shot and downed it, grinning broadly as he set the glass down. "Oh man, try one of those. It's awesome."

"Sammy?" Charlie mouthed at him, lips twitching in amusement.

Sam made a face at her and reached for one of the yellow shots, eyeing it skeptically before tossing it down his throat. It burned a little going down, but what he could taste was some weird mix of metallic tangs and the sharp flavor of whiskey. "Wow," he commented when he was confident he could speak without choking. "That's...something else."

Charlie chugged her Engineering Shot without blinking, setting the glass back down and winking at Sam. "Good stuff, right?"

It occurred to Sam that he wouldn't put it past Charlie to be able to drink him under the table, and Gabriel probably had the same weird angel stamina that had always kept Castiel from getting legitimately inebriated with alcohol in his system. He was going to have to be careful. Maybe just one round of shots, and then he'd call it quits.

The Medical Bays were next, and the blue liquid had a weirdly fruity flavor to it that Sam had to admit he actually liked. Charlie referred to the shot as weak, which Sam neglected to comment on. He'd been right; he was a lightweight next to Charlie. Better to not actually admit that next to her though. Gabriel liked the Medical Bay as well, praising its sweetness. No real surprise there.

The Red Shirts were last, and Sam was mildly pleased with himself for actually understanding the reference being made with the name. The three of them took their shots all at once, and each had very different reactions.

Charlie's breath huffed out all at once, and she took a shaky breath in after swallowing, making a "Woo!" noise in reaction.

Gabriel downed his drink and quirked an eyebrow nodding to himself. "Not bad!" He commented, pleased.

Sam had to place both hands on the table and suck in a huge breath to recover, swallowing hard. "What the hell is in that?" He demanded.

"No idea," Charlie replied cheerfully. "It'll put lesser men on the ground though," she commented, looking pleased that Sam was still standing.

"Good for me," Sam said wryly. "I think I might have to call it quits with that, though. How about I just watch you two and try to keep you out of trouble?"

Gabriel shook his head before Charlie could comment. "No way, I still want to get you plastered!"

"Hell no," Sam replied calmly. "This is as drunk as you're getting me."

Gabriel made a displeased noise. "On a scale from one to ten, how safe would you be behind the wheel of a car right now?"

Sam considered that. "Probably a five or six," he answered, sounding relatively rational.

"Still too sober then," Gabriel declared, with Charlie nodding emphatically behind him.

"Guys," Sam started to protest, but a vibrating in his jacket pocket distracted him. He fished his phone out and made a noise of relief. "It's Dean, hang on." He turned away and walked out the front door to get away from the noise.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sam. I've got good news and bad news."

* * *

_[This takes place during the Vegas scene.]_

Dean was giving Castiel some privacy for his prayer. The former angel was kneeling beside the Impala, his hands clasped in supplication and his face turned heavenward.

The older Winchester had walked away from the car and was circling the church, trying to appreciate the architecture he could really care less about. He wanted to be sitting with Castiel while he prayed to his brother, but he had understood without even being asked that Castiel needed to be alone for this prayer.

From where he was standing now, Dean could see Castiel clearly, and his best friend hadn't moved an inch since Dean had left him almost fifteen minutes ago. There was no sign of any descending archangels filled with fury, but he wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not. Dean didn't want to interrupt Castiel, but he also didn't want to just leave him there for an indefinite period of time. He started to move closer, but stopped when he realized Castiel was praying out loud. Those words weren't meant for Dean's ears.

That didn't stop him from hearing them though.

"Brother, I don't even know if you will be able to hear this prayer, but I am making it anyway. You are our only hope to regain access to Heaven. I understand that I am not worthy to ask for your help, and I do not expect you to ever forgive me for my sins, but if you could find it within you to at least help Gabriel in this mission, than that will be enough. I do not ask for your forgiveness, because I know I do not deserve it. I have already been forgiven by many who should not have extended such kindness. If you will accept my apology, I will be forever grateful. I do not wish to disturb you and force you into a problem of my own making, but Heaven needs you, brother. Gabriel needs you, and so does the rest of the Host. I need you, but I know better than to ask. Please, brother, help Gabriel in his quest to restore the angels. I will pay my penance."

Dean had frozen at Castiel's words, and he sighed to himself, moving forward to lay a hand on Castiel's shoulder. To hell with privacy, Castiel shouldn't be alone at a time like this.

Castiel tensed when he felt Dean's hand, but relaxed when he figured out who was gripping him. "Hello, Dean," he said quietly.

"You didn't do this, Cas, and you need to stop blaming yourself," Dean told him firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Castiel whirled to face him, his expression angry. "Stop. Saying. That." He spat through gritted teeth.

Dean fought against the urge to recoil, facing the angry former angel head on. "No." He threw back, his tone equally antagonistic. "You're such an idiot, Cas, why can't you just accept our damn forgiveness already and move on?"

The former angel had tears of anger welling up in his eyes, but he didn't pull away from Dean's grip. "Because it's wrong!" He protested harshly. "I don't deserve anyone's forgiveness, especially not from you, or Sam, or Gabriel. I need to pay the price."

"Cas," Dean demanded his attention, his gaze pointed. "You know how I forgave Sam for all the crap he pulled with Ruby and freeing Lucifer?"

Castiel's eyes narrowed at what seemed to be a random subject change. "He's your brother." He pointed out, his voice monotone. "You love him."

"Well, yeah, but I realized something. Sam made some stupid decisions, but at every turn he thought he was doing the right thing." Dean emphasized that last point with his voice, looking at Castiel meaningfully. "I can forgive the crap you've pulled because I know that everything you did was because you thought it was the right thing to do."

Castiel opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, looking confused. "So all my sins are forgiven because I didn't mean to hurt anyone?" He asked derisively.

Dean groaned with frustration, shaking Castiel by the shoulder. "Dammit, Cas! When someone is remorseful about something they did, you forgive them! Especially the people you love, because that's just how it works. Now accept the fact that we've all forgiven you and stop trying to stomp all over it with your self pity."

It looked like Castiel was going to protest again for a second, but he stopped, his expression quizzical. "People you love?" He repeated, his expression some hybrid between hopeful and confused.

It was Dean's turn to tense up, but he relaxed slowly, talking himself out of avoiding the question. "Yeah," he replied, wondering if he was going to have to he more direct than that.

"Like...family?" Castiel asked hesitantly, eyes wide.

Dean tore his gaze away from Castiel's eyes so he could focus on the question. "You've always been a hell of a lot more than family, Cas," he muttered, shuffling awkwardly.

Castiel was about to respond to that, when both of their attentions were suddenly torn away from each other.

"Castiel."

Dean stood up in one fluid movement, his stance ramrod straight and his expression grim. He had been trying to prepare himself, but the vision of his younger half-brother standing in front of him hurt a lot more than he expected it to.

"Michael." Castiel was standing to Dean's right and slightly behind him, but he moved forward to take a point position. This was his responsibility.

"I heard your prayer," Michael stated matter of factly, Adam's face looking thoroughly uninterested in the proceedings.

Dean had to clench and unclench his hands to avoid getting involved. He knew that the needed to be a conversation between angels, and he needed to stay out of it. For now.

"I am grateful," Castiel replied, his eyes certainly looking relieved. "We were unsure if prayer would still work. Gabriel is not able to clearly hear prayers, just sense that he is being prayed to."

Michael accepted that information with a mild noise of acknowledgement. "It was not clear, as it should have been, but it was clear enough, and you were not difficult to find."

It occurred to Dean at that comment that Castiel didn't have any kind of protective markings on him yet. They were going to have to fix that. He and Sam still had the marks on their ribs that Castiel had given them so long ago, and they'd had the anti-possession tattoos even longer. The fact that Castiel was not similarly protected seemed like an egregious oversight.

"Thank you for coming," Castiel offered, seeming to not know what else to say.

"Did you expect me not to?" Michael asked, raising one eyebrow.

"I-" Castiel was cut off by Dean, who decided to go ahead an enter the conversation after all.

"Cas has been having trouble accepting the idea that he's worthy of anyone's help," Dean explained, glaring pointedly at the former angel. "Apparently I'm not enough to convince him. I hope you're not here to pass out judgement, because that's about as unhelpful as you could possibly be."

"Dean!" Castiel hissed at him, real fear sparking in his eyes.

Michael merely looked amused, and nodded to Dean in deference. "Understood. As it happens, I am not here to condemn Castiel."

Dean relaxed slightly, but Castiel looked up with confusion and concern. "Why not?" He asked, his tone bewildered.

"Because it is clear to me from both your prayer and your conversation with Dean that you do not need more judgement. I can see that you are remorseful, and I will accept your apology. Furthermore, I will offer you my forgiveness as well. My actions during my quest to defeat Lucifer contributed in large part to the circumstances that led Heaven to its current state of being, and I cannot pass condemnation on you for something it was within my power to prevent, had I been rational enough to see it. As a result, I must request your forgiveness as well."

Castiel stood there, gaping at his older brother, unable to speak.

Michael did not speak again, but gazed at Castiel, waiting.

Finally inhaling a shaky breath out of necessity, Castiel managed to say quietly, "I cannot withhold from you what you have so generously given me. You have my forgiveness, Michael."

Nodding his thanks, Michael turned to Dean. "I must also apologize to both you and your brother for the situation you were forced into by my actions and the plans of Heaven."

"Seriously?" Dean asked, gaping at the archangel in shock. "You're actually apologizing to me?"

"I can understand your incredulity, but I assure you I am sincere," Michael informed him.

Dean studied him for a second, a replay of every crappy thing Heaven had put him through running unwanted through his head. "If I forgive you," he began, "Am I still cool to consider most of Heaven full of assholes? Cause I'm really not a fan of some of you guys." A thought occurred to him and he made a mental note to tell Sam that if he and Gabriel happened to come across Zachariah's grace that they needed to lock it away somewhere and lose the key.

Michael's lips twitched in amusement. "I can accept that," he replied easily. "I understand if there are some of my brethren that you are less fond of."

"Honestly, Cas is the only one I am fond of," Dean huffed. "I barely tolerate Gabriel."

"How is Gabriel?" Michael asked, directing the question at Castiel.

Castiel tore his eyes away from Dean to answer the question. "Weaker than you, from what I have seen, but otherwise much the same as always. He seems determined to be a help, rather than a hindrance, which is perhaps the greatest change in him."

Michael made a noise of consideration at that.

"Hey, I have a couple of questions," Dean interjected, deciding to take advantage of having the archangel in front of them.

"Yes, Dean?" Michael asked, a slight smile on his lips at Dean's thorough lack of formality with him.

"Well, first, how exactly is your power tank doing? Gabriel's got pretty limited mojo, and he gets really tired really fast. He used all of it to fix Sam a couple days ago, and I don't think he's fully recharged yet." Dean made a mental note to ask about Gabriel's grace next time he talked to Sam.

"What was wrong with Samuel?" Michael asked, his voice holding a level of concern that Dean was skeptical of.

"He began the trials to close Hell and stopped before completing the final trial," Castiel informed the archangel when after a pause it became clear that Dean wasn't going to answer.

Michael made a noise of surprise. "Why did he stop?"

"I made him," Dean replied firmly.

"Because?" Michael prompted.

"We didn't know when he started that it would kill him, and I decided it wasn't worth it," Dean explained, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Michael nodded slowly, looking like he understood. "I see. Well, it would seem that my grace is largely intact, although I am far less powerful at the moment than I should be. Flying does not seem to be a major drain, however, which is a relief."

"That's good," Dean commented. "Gabriel's avoiding flying at the moment because it drains him so fast."

"How is he traveling?" Michael inquired.

"By car. With Sam." Dean informed him.

"Would it be in our best interests to join them?" Michael asked, looking between Castiel and Dean, clearly unsure who could answer that question.

"Probably," Dean admitted. "Our mission was pretty much finding you. Sam and Gabriel are tracking down grace and saving it so they can restore any angels they find."

Michael made an interested noise. "A smart idea," he said approvingly. "How many have they found?"

"Angels? None, as far as I know. They've got like three or four vials of grace now though," Dean told him.

"I suppose it is a good start," Michael mused. "Very well, I will take you to them. Where are they?"

"I'm not sure, I'll have to call Sam and find out. I have another question though." Dean held up a finger, indicating that Michael should wait.

"And that is?" Michael prompted.

"Is there any chance you could get out of my kid brother?" Dean asked, trying to word the question in as non-antagonistic a way as possible.

Michael actually looked contrite as he shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. I have done my best to protect your brother within the cage, but I do not have another vessel to occupy. Until I can return to Heaven, I cannot leave his body."

Dean blew out his breath slowly, trying to relax. "All right, fine. Is he okay?"

Michael hesitated, as though not sure how to answer that question. "I have not overwhelmed his psyche with my presence, and I shielded him in the cage, so I believe it is safe to say that he is probably better off than Sam was when Castiel pulled him from the cage."

Dean resisted the urge to point out that that wouldn't really take much, given Sam's state following his stint in the cage. "I guess that's going to have to do," he muttered. "I'm going to call Sam." He pressed the speed dial on his phone and held it up, leaning against the Impala and sighing heavily.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sam. I've got good news and bad news."


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:**

**Thank you all for being patient with me! Sorry this chapter took longer to get up than usual. I've been super busy, but I should be more regular for awhile.**

**I wanted to make a note of how I'm portraying Michael, since so many people seemed interested. My perception of him was always that he was a very strict must-follow-the-rules sort of Angel, but wasn't despicable in the way Zachariah was. As such, it was my headcanon that with the proper perspective, he would be a relatively reasonable person, so that's how I'm portraying him. Similar to how Castiel was when we first met him, sometimes he'll be likable and sometimes he'll be a jerk. I think that's kind of the angel default.**

**Thanks to DanielleMJSH, ZoetheSka, Nikkilouise, FireChildSlytherin5, jojospn, keacdragon, shadowdancer33996, calcu22, and Hannah for their reviews on chapter 14!**

* * *

**Chapter 15 - The Sword**

"All right, hit me. What happened?" Sam sighed and rubbed his forehead, moving until he found a quiet spot where he could clearly hear his brother.

"So, we found Michael," Dean informed him.

"Is that the good news or the bad news?" Sam asked, his voice hesitant.

"Both," Dean replied. "He's being...well, nice, for an angel I guess. So that's good."

"What's the bad news then?" Sam knew he sounded nervous, but he felt relieved. The fact that Michael wasn't a raging asshole who wanted to barbecue them was a good sign.

"Well, the bad news is also good news and bad news," Dean hedged, apparently not realizing that that sentence didn't make much sense.

"What does that even mean?" Sam asked, irritated.

Dean sighed loudly into the phone. "Michael's still inside Adam. Good news is that the kid's apparently relatively okay, considering. Michael says he's probably more whole than you were when you got out. Bad news is that Michael doesn't have a way to get out of Adam until Heaven is back open for business."

Sam made a noise of acknowledgement and sagged against a wall. "Fantastic," he muttered sarcastically. At a normal volume he asked, "Well, at least he's alive, right? That's something."

"Like I said," Dean commented, "Good news, bad news. Anyway, Michael's got more juice than Gabriel, so he wants to mojo us all to you. Where are you guys?"

Sam flushed and coughed awkwardly. "Ten Forward, in Las Vegas."

"The Star Trek bar?" Dean asked skeptically.

"Charlie," Sam offered as an explanation.

Dean snorted. "They got you playing strip poker yet?"

"No," Sam shot back defensively. "I had three shots and that's it. I can't say for sure how the other two are, but Gabriel seems to be able to hold his own, and Charlie could probably drink you under the table, let alone me."

"All right, well make sure everybody's reasonably rational. We'll be there soon." Dean sounded amused, and said something away from the phone, presumably to the archangel and former angel in his company.

"I'll make sure they're coherent," Sam agreed wryly. "See you."

Sam heard the click indicating Dean had hung up and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He couldn't decide whether to be excited or anxious about the incoming arrival of Michael, Castiel, and Dean.

Heading back into the bar, Sam was relieved to see that Charlie and Gabriel were both still standing. Each had a glass in their hands with a liquid that seemed to be glowing.

"Sam!" Charlie exclaimed with glee. "You have got to try some of this. It's amazing."

Gabriel nodded emphatically. "Better than being high," he enthused.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "You've been high?" He asked, his tone disapproving.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and shot him a look of consternation. "I'm literally older than dirt and world renowned for my partying skills, Samsquatch. I'd say it's safe to assume at some point in my life I've tried E."

Bewildered, Sam asked, "How does that even work on angels?"

Gabriel shrugged. "It doesn't really. You have to have the right sigils and stuff in place. When I want to try something, I try something. I made it work."

Sam scowled at him, still disapproving, but reached out and took a sip of the drink. It was impossibly sweet, and he felt light headed almost immediately. He handed the drink back and shook his head. "Okay, that was more than enough of that." He coughed and rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. "We need to get out of here; we've got company incoming."

"Who?" Charlie asked, looking completely unconcerned.

"My brother and two of his brothers," Sam replied, jerking a thumb in Gabriel's reaction.

The comment had Gabriel concentrating on Sam as if he were stone cold sober. "Which brothers?" He asked, his tone as serious as Sam had ever heard it.

"Cas and Michael," Sam informed him, eyeing him critically for his reaction.

There was a nearly imperceptible shift in Gabriel's expression, which he locked down almost immediately. "Yeah, I should probably be sober for that conversation. What about you, Charles the fourth? You want to come to the angel pow wow?"

Charlie giggled at the nickname, taking another swig of her drink. "Sure! Sounds way more exciting than anything I could do in my hotel."

Sam gave Charlie a concerned look, but she ignored him. He sighed and turned towards the door. "Fine, if we're all going then we should get out of this room so they can actually find us."

Gabriel and Charlie both seemed to agree with that plan, and Sam was able to lead them out of the main bar and into the hallway. Their timing was apparently perfect, because they narrowly missed running headlong into the trio flying in from Maryland.

"Oh!" Charlie exclaimed, rocking back on her heels to avoid plowing into Dean. "Hey!"

Dean was startled for a moment before relaxing and moving forward to give Charlie a quick hug. "Hey, how's my favorite hacker?"

"Slightly drunk," Charlie replied, blinking slowly as though trying to clear the mild fog she'd slipped into with the alcohol. "Otherwise doing pretty well. You?"

"Alive and kicking, which is all I can ask for these days," Dean answered. He let Charlie go and stepped back, tucking an arm around Castiel almost absentmindedly. "Charlie, this is Cas. Cas, Charlie."

Castiel stepped forward as much as Dean's arm would allow to shake Charlie's hand. "It is good to meet you," He said seriously. "I have heard Sam and Dean mention you."

"Same," Charlie agreed, nodding quickly. "They talk about you A LOT." She over emphasized the last two words, still nodding.

"All right," Sam commented quickly, stepping forward and tugging Charlie back. The introductions had been a nice delay, but he was starting to get antsy. If something was going to happen, it would be now. Sam was having trouble focusing on anything other than Michael, who was quietly watching the exchanges between Charlie, Dean, and Castiel.

"Brother," Gabriel greeting Michael calmly, nodding to him in deference. "It's been awhile."

"Indeed," Michael replied, his voice almost apologetic. "I regret that we were not able to reconcile before your unfortunate run-in with our brother's blade."

Gabriel winced at the reminder. "Yeah, well, it seems like we get another shot at that. Here's hoping Luci doesn't repeat act one this time around."

Charlie's eyes narrowed in confusion, and she looked up at Sam, scowling when he mouthed "later" at her instead of answering any of her unspoken questions.

"You have been collecting grace?" Michael asked, sounding curious.

"Yeah, Samsquatch here and I have been doing the whole great American road trip thing. Haven't really found a lot of use yet. Maybe one or two seraphs we could use, but we don't have their vessels yet, so we can't do much." Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "It's a slow process."

Michael made a noise of understanding and nodded. "It will be easier with my assistance," he declared. "My grace is stronger than yours, and can cover more distance before weakening. I understand you exhausted all your grace already?"

Gabriel nodded and stretched. "Yeah, but it's coming back in waves. I can't do much flying without getting super tired though. Your grace is strong enough for sustained flight?"

"Indeed," Michael replied. "Which will be a much needed benefit if we are to recover as much grace as possible."

Castiel stepped forward, having been keeping to the background for the majority of the conversation. Dean was leaning against the wall, listening, and Sam was trying to keep Charlie from asking questions. Castiel decided now was as good a time as any to speak up. "Who have you located so far, Gabriel?"

Gabriel scowled. "Nobody helpful," he said, not really answering the question.

"Who?" Michael repeated the question, his tone more forceful than Castiel's.

Gabriel hesitated. "Well, we found Adriel. I don't really know him, but he's not an enemy at least."

Castiel nodded slowly. "I know Adriel. It is true, he is not our enemy. Who else?"

Reluctantly, Gabriel revealed, "Hester."

Michael was the one to nod this time. "I know Hester. A loyal and dedicated seraph. Castiel, were you not in the same garrison?"

Castiel looked upset as he answered. "We were, but I doubt she will maintain such former loyalties, especially as the last time we met she attempted to kill me."

Gabriel already knew about that, but Michael looked surprised. "Why would Hester rebel against you, Castiel?"

"Can you not think why?" Castiel whispered, looking ashamed.

"Ah." Michael made a noise of comprehension and nodded. "I see. Well, her views are not shared by all, Castiel."

Castiel still seemed to have trouble believing that, and he shrank back into the arm of comfort Dean offered unconsciously. It wasn't quite an embrace, but it made Castiel feel secure, which was a much needed feeling.

"Who else, Gabriel?" Michael inquired. "Dean informed me that you had located three graces."

Gabriel scowled. "Yeah, but the latest one is definitely not a friend."

"Who?" Michael demanded, enunciating the word until it sounded like it had two syllables.

"Uriel," Gabriel spat, his entire expression livid. Behind him, Sam looked equally angry and Charlie continued to look confused.

Castiel went white, and Dean stiffened in anger. "We're not bringing that bastard back," Dean declared with finality. "I don't give a damn if we need all the angelic help we can get. We're not letting that son of a bitch juice back up."

Michael's eyes narrowed. "I see that Uriel is not well loved by this particular group."

"Yeah," Dean agreed sarcastically. "That tends to happen when someone attempts to murder you as part of their grand plan to make sure Lucifer is released onto the planet."

Sam winced at the memory. Dean had almost died, Castiel had been forced to kill a friend, and Sam had been so wrapped around Ruby that he hadn't really been of any help to either of them.

"Ah." Michael's expression cleared. "My memory of that particular occurrence is veiled by my perspective at the time. I can see from your perspective why Uriel would not be considered an ally."

Dean snorted derisively.

"I have no wish to see him again," Castiel said quietly. "He was very nearly the death of Dean."

Dean tossed Castiel an incredulously look. "He was almost the death of you, Cas!"

"That is not as concerning a factor," Castiel commented, ignoring the look Dean gave him in response.

"I agree, Uriel would not make a wise choice to assist in our cause," Michael mused. "We shall have to continue in the search for allies, then. Gabriel, are you intending to continue the search of the United States with Samuel?"

"As long as Sammy's not sick of me yet," Gabriel affirmed, tossing a look over his shoulder at Sam.

Sam shrugged. "I'm not ready to kick your ass out of the car yet," he agreed. "We're good."

"Then I will search Europe," Michael declared. "Hopefully, we can begin to restore the Heavenly Host with some hast. We need to find a way back into Heaven."

"Is that possible?" Castiel asked meekly.

"We will have to do research, I expect," Michael considered. "I am not familiar with the spellwork Metatron used."

"I can tell you what he did, if that would help," Castiel offered.

"What were the components?" Michael queried.

"A nephilim had to die, a cupid's bow had to be acquired, and an angel's grace had to be used," Castiel recited quietly.

"Your grace," Michael stated, not questioning.

"Yes," Castiel confirmed, his expression similar to that of a kicked puppy.

Michael sighed slowly and let his eyes drift closed. "I am sorry, brother. I am saddened by those who have lost their grace or some degree of it temporarily. I weep for you, who has lost it altogether." He turned to face Castiel and stepped closer, resting his forehead against Castiel's. They stood there like that, silent, until Michael pulled back and turned back to Gabriel. "We should make hast."

Dean tightened his grip around Castiel, sensing that the former angel was emotionally drained. "What exactly should Cas and I be doing? We finished the whole 'find Michael' mission."

"Find Lucifer?" Sam suggested. Four pairs of eyes turned to stare at Sam incredulously. "What?" He asked defensively. "It's not like we can let him run around on his own anyway. If he's as powerful as Michael, I think we need to be worried."

"That reminds me," Dean spoke up, "Abaddon wants him dead."

Sam pursed his lips. "You wanting to interfere with that?"

Dean sighed. "We promised Cas. I made her promise to get in touch with us if she found him so we could toss him back in the cage. I figure, it's not as good as the whole forcing him into humanity plan, but it means we don't have to kill him, and it also means he can't bring Hell on Earth like last time."

Sam nodded slowly. "I guess. I'd say you better find him before she does though. While you're at it, can you find out where she stashed Crowley?"

Dean did a double take. "Why? Is that really a priority?"

Scowling at his brother, Sam nodded. "He's my responsibility now."

"Fine. We'll look." Dean sighed and realized belatedly that Michael was staring at him. "What?"

"You intend to either force humanity upon Lucifer or reseal him in his cage?" Michael asked.

"Uh..." Dean hovered over the answer for a moment, not sure what Michael's reaction was. "Yes?"

Michael hummed under his breath. "Good. I do not wish to kill him either. Please inform me if you find him. You will need help."

Dean bristled at the suggestion that he couldn't handle a semi-powered-down version of the devil with Cas at his side, but nodded regardless. He probably would need the help.

"What were you discussing about the king of hell?" Michael asked next, turning his attention to Sam.

"He's almost pure human now," Sam explained quickly. "I stopped before finishing the last part of the trials, and Abaddon took Crowley before we could do anything about it. He's being tortured now, but he's only part demon. It's my fault that she was able to take over his throne and that he's so human now. I feel like I'm kind of obligated to try and save him if I can."

Michael was staring at Sam curiously, and he slowly nodded. "I have a great deal of respect for you, Samuel. More than I would have anticipated. You are to be commended. I wish you success in this venture."

"Thanks," Sam offered, a little dumbstruck.

"I suggest we part ways now," Michael said with finality. "We have work to do."

"Woah, woah!" Dean protested, holding his free hand up. "Don't zap out on us just yet. You gotta take me back to my car, remember?"

Gabriel snorted and Sam rolled his eyes, but Michael merely nodded seriously. "Of course. Make your goodbyes, and I will return you to your vehicle."

Dean and Castiel made their way over to Sam, Gabriel, and Charlie, and there was a quick sequence of murmured goodbyes. Castiel and Gabriel hugged, Sam and Castiel awkwardly shook hands, Dean and Sam patted each other on the back, Charlie shook hands with everybody, and Gabriel threw himself into a hug with Sam, only to be reminded by Sam that they were staying together for the time being.

"Ready?" Michael urged.

"Yeah, let's do this." Dean and Castiel walked forward, still connected, and stood still for Michael's touch, vanishing from the hallway.

Sam did a quick 360 to make sure nobody had seen the vanishing men, then relaxed. "Well, I guess Gabe and I oughta hit the road."

"Tomorrow," Charlie said firmly. "You're sleeping here tonight."

Gabriel shrugged. "Fine by me."

Sam nodded. "Good plan. I'm definitely not in a hurry to drive."

"Come back to my hotel," Charlie urged. "I'll just tell the system that there's three people in my room so you won't get kicked out."

"Can you do that while you're drunk?" Sam asked, mostly teasing.

Charlie rolled her eyes at him. "Sam, I could blow up the Death Star while I'm drunk."


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note:**

**I had a flow of inspiration for several of the elements I want to include!**

**Thanks to Riceball-1989, Le'letha, jojospn, FireChildSlytherin5, violeterin, keacdragon, and MoonArrow for their reviews on chapter 15!**

* * *

**Chapter 16 - Stars**

Sam awoke the next morning with a groan, rubbing his forehead and rolling over, sitting bolt upright when that motion dumped him on the floor. He'd forgotten he was sleeping on a couch. Blinking in an attempt to clear his head, Sam saw that Gabriel was draped over a generic hotel chair, his mouth open and head tilted back in what couldn't have been a comfortable position.

Chuckling to himself, Sam stumbled upright and headed for the bathroom, noting as he moved that Charlie was still asleep in the one bed in the room. As soon as he splashed himself with water and had a drink, he felt a lot more functional. He wasn't exactly a lightweight with alcohol, but doing shots had never been a smart idea for him. Beer was more his speed, and he could handle it better.

Feeling refreshed, Sam meandered back to his couch, taking a seat and turning his attention to Gabriel, who was still dead to the world. Looking at the practically human archangel in front of him, Sam couldn't help think about Michael, the closest thing they had to a full powered angel on their side. In the new light of the morning, Sam was feeling a lot more concerned about Michael's involvement. He didn't want to hold the past against the guy, especially if he was genuine now, but Sam had a lot of reasons to want to hold a grudge. Even if it was just the little things, like the way Michael had acquired Adam as his vessel, or the way he'd gone after Dean, or even how he let Sam die when they went back in time so that he could harass Dean. Michael hadn't exactly been their best friend.

Then there were the not so little things. Honestly, Sam was grateful to Michael for sheltering Adam in the cage. He really didn't have to, so the fact that he had chosen to was great. That being said, Michael hadn't been a friend to Sam in the cage. At first, Michael had been almost as vicious a tormentor as Lucifer, blaming Sam for getting him trapped in the cage with Lucifer. At some point, Michael had backed off from Sam, and the hunter wondered if that's when Michael had reevaluated his life perspective. He certainly didn't target Sam anymore, but neither did he ever lift a finger to protect him from Lucifer. If that was because he was too busy sheltering Adam, then that was fine, but there was a part of Sam that wasn't sure he could let it go.

"Mmmmph." Gabriel snorted softly and rolled over, landing in a head on the floor. He jolted and froze, muttering incoherent sounds until he managed to ask, "What happened?"

"You fell on the floor," Sam informed him, amused. "Don't worry, I did the same thing."

That seemed to mollify Gabriel slightly, and he pushed himself back into the chair, relaxing and fixating his gaze on Sam. "Morning, sunshine."

Sam smirked and just shook his head, the dark cloud of his morning contemplations not completely dissipated yet. "Morning, Gabe. Sleep okay?"

"Fine," Gabriel affirmed, nodding. "You doing okay?"

Surprised, Sam replied, "Yeah, I'm all right."

Gabriel squinted at him. "No, you're upset about something."

Trying decide whether or not he should be weirded out that Gabriel knew him so well, Sam shrugged the comment off. "I'm not upset, I was just thinking."

"About?" Gabriel prompted, not letting the subject go.

Sam sighed and adjusted his position on the couch so he was almost lying down again. "Just stuff. Michael mostly."

"Hmm." Gabriel eyed him speculatively. "Not a fan of the Empire's only hope?"

Sam threw him a disparaging look in response and shook his head. "It's not that. He seems to be a perfectly agreeable ally."

"So why is that a problem?" Gabriel pressed, raising an eyebrow.

Sam blew out his breath through his teeth. "It just is. Lots of stuff. I don't know, I'm just not used to the idea, I guess."

Gabriel considered him for a minute before asking, "Give me some bare bones details, Sam. What's worrying you?"

"Fine." Sam gave in with a huff. "Adam. Hell. The apocalypse. It's just...I need time."

Gabriel made a noise of understanding and hummed softly to himself before replying. "I'd never deny that Michael can be a phenomenal asshole, but when it comes down to it, he's obsessed with doing the right thing. Cas is a lot like him, you know. He's a real stick in the mud for doing the right thing no matter what, and you know how that's ended, more than once. Sometimes people do terrible things for the right reasons. I'm not saying that excuses him, but it might make it a little easier to forgive him."

"Hmm." Sam considered that, rolling the idea of Michael as similar to Castiel around in his head. From Michael's perspective, defeating Lucifer was the right thing to do, and for that he needed Dean. Sam could understand that, and could even be okay with it. Even Adam fit into the picture when he looked at it that way. There was still Hell though, and Sam didn't think all the good intentions in the world could cover up a torture session with Michael.

"I should talk to him," Gabriel mused. "If I help him make a vessel than he can get out of Adam."

Sam's head snapped up, thoughts of Hell and the apocalypse fleeing his mind. "What'd you say?" He demanded, ignoring the fact that he was raising his voice and Charlie was still asleep.

Gabriel started, surprised by Sam's intensity. "I was just saying that I could help Michael make his owl vessel," he repeated. "If he went to the effort to shield Adam in the cage, that says to me that he cares about the kid, or at least doesn't want him dead. The longer he wears him though, the more danger he's in. He probably doesn't have the juice to make a new vessel on his own, but if I help we should be able to do it. I've done it before; I made this vessel."

"You made your vessel?" Sam asked, latching onto the new information.

"Angelic vessels, legit human ones that is, can be tracked by Heaven. Only archangels have strong enough grace to create a vessel that Heaven can't find. Or at least, we did before the Host fell. I made my vessel when I was escaping Heaven, which was a really long time ago now. This height was in fashion back then." Gabriel made a face at him, obviously thinking about their height difference.

That startled a chuckle out of Sam, before he remembered the reason they were on this topic in the first place. "So Michael can make himself a vessel?" He confirmed.

"With my help," Gabriel pointed out. "Even if he was fully powered up it would be hard. It'll drain both of us, but it should be possible."

"Then why the hell would he tell Dean he couldn't leave Adam until Heaven was back open for business? Come to think of it, why did he take Adam in the first place?" Sam seethed, anger towards the archangel beginning to fill him.

Gabriel gnawed at his lip, a habit Sam had never seen him engage in before. "Making your own vessel is kind of frowned upon. He probably didn't even think about it as an option."

Sam felt slightly more rational having it explained to him, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it. "Will he consider it an option if you ask him to?" He asked hopefully.

"Maybe," Gabriel nodded, considering. "I'm willing to pitch him the offer, at least. I'd guess you'd like the kid sooner rather than later. He's, what, your half-brother?"

It took Sam a minute to realize that Gabriel had a majority of that story second-hand from Castiel, and even then probably not all the details. "Um, yeah. He was killed by ghouls. Dean and I didn't know until he was already dead. The angels brought him back to serve as a substitute vessel for Michael, since Dean wouldn't go along with the program."

"Ahhhh." Gabriel made a show of voicing his understanding. "Okay, that clarifies things. Let me talk to Mikey, and we'll see what happens. I don't suppose Dean convinced him to take a cell phone?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "That would have been smart, but I doubt it. We'll have to fix that. Although, he's in Europe anyway, it's not like it would work there."

Gabriel made a face at him. "Humans," he said exasperatedly.

Sam was about to ask what exactly his species was doing to irritate Gabriel when he realized that the archangel was praying. He decided to leave him to it, turning his attention to Charlie, who was just now starting to stir. He got up and walked over to the bed as she began to sit up.

"Hey, Sam. Sleep okay?" She mumbled.

"Fine, thanks. You doing all right? Hangover?" Sam felt like a nagging parent, but something in him wanted to take care of Charlie and make sure she was okay.

"Nah, little bit of a headache, but it'll pass." She waved him off and slid out of bed, heading for the bathroom. "You guys taking off soon?"

"Probably," Sam replied, tossing a glance back towards Gabriel, who hadn't moved. "We'll see."

"Okay." Charlie ducked into the bathroom, reemerging a moment later after a flush and running a brush through her hair. "Right, well I have questions about last night."

"I'll do my best," Sam replied, leaning up against the wall with a sigh.

"Okay, well obvious the most important question," Charlie began seriously. She stopped brushing her hair and looked seriously at Sam. "How long has Dean been gay?"

Of all the questions Sam had been expecting, that wasn't one of them. He coughed and choked slightly before finding enough air to answer her. "He's not. He might be gay for Cas, but he hasn't figured that out yet, as far as I know anyway."

Charlie seemed to take that seriously, nodding as though his answer was worthy of further contemplation. "Interesting. Well, at least it's mutual. They'll figure it out eventually. So, the new guy is the archangel Michael, and Lucifer's out running around too?"

Amused that Charlie had picked up on the tension flowing between Dean and Castiel so easily, Sam almost missed the second question. "Oh, yeah. Michael's playing nice so far, but we haven't found Lucifer yet." Her lack of confusion on that topic reminded him that she'd read Chuck's books, which he found endlessly irritating. Maybe a well placed computer virus could delete them?

"Uh-huh." Charlie set her hair brush down and focused her gaze on Sam again. "Why exactly do you want to find him? I mean, it's not like you guys are bosom buddies."

Sam snorted at her phrasing. "Yeah, not exactly. We need to find him before he does any damage. He's as powerful as Michael at the moment. It's less powerful than he was before, but still a hell of a lot more powerful than we'd like."

"Ouch." She winced theatrically. "That sucks."

"I'm not thrilled about it either," Sam said dryly.

"Well, he probably can't do much damage for now," Charlie noted casually.

"How do you figure?" Sam asked, giving her a look of confusion.

Charlie stared at him, as though he was missing something obvious. "He doesn't have a vessel."

Sam knew he looked surprised, which made him feel like an idiot. "That's going to make him harder to find," was all he could say.

Charlie was shaking her head at him slowly as she turned away. "How hard is it to find a glowing light mass?" She asked.

He shrugged. "I really doubt he's just going to be wandering around Earth without a vessel. He's probably hiding somewhere until he can figure out how to fix that problem."

She made a face at him. "Well, let me know when you find the evil glowing light thing so I know it's safe to sleep at night." Charlie rolled her eyes at him and grinned.

Sam had to laugh at that. There shouldn't really have been anything funny about Lucifer free on Earth, but something about an outsider's take on the situation made it easier to wrap his brain around. Or at least, he didn't feel like freaking out about it.

"Sam," Gabriel called from the chair, where he was apparently done praying.

Looking up eagerly, Sam raised an eyebrow in question.

Gabriel tapped his head in answer and nodded. "He's coming. I'm going to meet him so we can talk. I'll come back and get you later. I'd rather do this brother to brother."

"Adam is my brother," Sam protested, irritated at the suggestion he stay behind.

"And Michael is my brother," Gabriel replied firmly. "I need to talk to him about a couple of things, and it'll be easier without you. I'll rejoin you at the car in a few hours, okay?"

Sam scowled at him, but after a moment he relented. "Fine. Be careful, and come back in one piece."

Gabriel snorted. "I'll try." He poked his head into the bathroom, where Charlie was watching the exchange. "Stay safe, Charles. I look forward to seeing you again!"

Charlie chuckled and waved at him as the archangel strode towards the front door and quickly shut it behind him. "He's pretty cool," she informed Sam with a grin.

Sam shrugged, but he was smiling. "Yeah, he's growing on me." He chuckled and shook his head in chagrin. "Like a fungus, but still."

Charlie snorted at him. "Gross. Come on, get dressed and we'll grab breakfast. This hotel makes amazing pancakes."

Somehow, despite his irritation at not being a part of the Michael conversation, Sam couldn't stay upset. Something about Charlie's enthusiasm for the little things made him smile, and he remembered the first time they had parted ways, when Dean had labeled her the little sister he never wanted. As Bobby liked to say, family doesn't end with blood. As Sam threw on his clothes for the day while Charlie finished getting ready in the bathroom, he had to admit that it was really nice to have family.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note:**

**For the record, anybody who read chapter 16 when it was first published will want to go back and re-read it, because I re-wrote about half of it for clarity. **

**Special thanks to Le'letha for pointing out the things that needed to be altered or clarified!**

**Additional thanks to FireChildSlytherin5, jojospn, and Riceball-1989 for their reviews on chapter 16!**

* * *

**Chapter 17 - In Your Multitudes**

Dean and Castiel had checked into a motel after Michael dropped them off in Maryland, neither of them sure where to go to start their search. Both of them knew that the one sure-fire way they had of finding the devil was prayer, but they weren't going to. Neither Dean nor Castiel wanted to find Lucifer badly enough to warrant praying to him.

As a result, they ended up sitting together on a crappy motel sofa watching television. Castiel was squinting at the programming, unclear on the point of what Dean had briefly described as a medical drama, while Dean was trying not to dwell on what he and Castiel had been talking about the last time they'd been alone together.

That only lasted for about an hour before Castiel gave up on understanding the show Dean was so determined to watch, and turned to watch the hunter instead. He was well aware that his staring made Dean uncomfortable, and intelligent enough to use this fact to his advantage.

It worked. Dean only lasted about a minute before turning to Castiel. "What, dude?"

"While I am grateful for Michael's involvement in our mission," Castiel began, "I cannot help but think that he interrupted what seemed to be an important conversation."

Dean squirmed for a minute before giving up on avoiding the topic. He shut off the television and turned to fully face Castiel on the couch, nodding slowly. "Yeah, I guess he did."

There was a long pause where both Dean and Castiel simply looked at each other, but there was nothing awkward or strained about the silence. Half the time it seemed that they exclusively communicated this way, just in long looks and soul piercing stares.

It was Dean that broke the silence, as it usually was. Humans had a harder time maintaining quiet for any length of time. "Do I need to finish explaining, or were you tracking with me by the time Michael showed up?" He asked.

Castiel tilted his head at Dean's words, and tried to decide what he was meant to have gleaned from Dean's speech to him at the church. "I am forgiven because I am loved. By Sam, Gabriel, and you."

There was another pause, then Dean nodded. "Yeah, basically."

"Dean." Castiel nearly whispered.

"What, Cas?" Dean sighed.

"What did you mean, that I am more than family?" Castiel asked. This was the question he most wanted an answer to. He was not ignorant in the ways of humanity, and he had an idea of what it could mean, but it was unwise to pursue an assumption without proof.

The problem with being an emotionally repressed human was that it made it really hard for Dean to figure out what he was feeling, and even harder to communicate it. Having to deal with a self-destructing Castiel may have given whatever Dean had been harboring for the former angel a swift kick in the pants, but that didn't mean Dean was ready for formal declarations of intent. He still needed to wrap his head around the fact that apparently he had some feelings to sort through regarding Castiel.

Castiel let Dean think for awhile, knowing how the hunter worked. If one pressed him when he was like this, he would become defensive and the moment would be lost. It was best to let him think through his issues and decide himself how he wanted to proceed. Castiel, despite his new found humanity, was a patient person.

"Okay, bear with me here, because I'm not sure how this is going to sound when I get it out of my head," Dean announced nervously.

Castiel merely nodded, settling a comforting hand on Dean's knee. There was a time when that kind of contact might have caused the hunter to react negatively, but now it seemed to relax him, which Castiel took his own comfort from.

"I've always told you that you were like family, Cas, you know that. You are, too, you know. No matter what, you're family to me and Sam. Gabriel too, I guess. It seems like Sam's adopting him." Dean shook his head slightly to clear it so he could get back on track. "Anyway, it's more than that though, to me. I'm not saying I can put a name on it or tell you what I mean, but you're more, somehow. You just are. I think you need to know that, even if I can't really say it. Does that make any sense, or am I just blathering on over here?" Dean scratched his head awkwardly and fidgeted.

"I understand, Dean," Castiel told him warmly. He really did. Dean had not really explained himself or given Castiel something to grasp onto to label their relationship, but in his words was an assurance that there was something there, something more. The fact that Dean hadn't figured it out enough to offer it to Castiel wasn't something he was concerned about. As long as there was the bond between them, they would stand together.

Relief flooded Dean's face, and he nodded slowly. "Good. Yeah, good." He blew out a breath and adjusted his position, sitting facing the television again, but closer to Castiel this time.

Unsure if it would be too much, or if it wasn't something Dean was comfortable with, Castiel was slow in his movement as he shifted closer to Dean and rested his head on the taller man's shoulder, letting his eyes drift closed as he registered Dean's warmth.

Dean froze for all of a second, a barely noticeable heartbeat, before he relaxed completely, shifting his left arm to drop around Castiel's shoulders. "Get some rest, Cas," he murmured quietly.

Caught up in the comfort of Dean's closeness, it took Castiel a moment to register the words, and he nodded sleepily. This moment was the most human he had felt since landing in the woods, but it was also the first moment in which he hadn't felt angry, afraid, or weak. Instead, he felt protected and valued, and he decided that that was the best part of being a human. Having someone who wanted you.

* * *

Gabriel glanced around the coffee shop, taking in the relatively uniform clientele, and decided that this might be one of the oddest places he'd ever met one of his brothers. Neither he nor Michael really fit in at this particular shop. Gabriel was wearing jeans and a cargo jacket, which was basically what Adam had been wearing when Michael took over his body, and everyone else in the store was wearing suits. Gabriel shrugged it off. Blending in with humanity was hardly the priority at the moment.

"Why did you call me away from the mission, brother?" Michael prompted, his expression curious but stern.

"We need to talk," Gabriel replied evasively, sipping at the coffee he'd convinced the barista to make him without actually paying for it. It was still too hot, so he glared at it in revenge.

"So I gathered," Michael responded wryly. "About what?"

"That," Gabriel indicated, waving a hand at Adam. "You're riding a kid that's going to explode from archangel overdose eventually."

Michael had the moral sensitivity to look guilty about that, and glanced down. "Unfortunately, I do not have access to another vessel."

"I'll help you make one," Gabriel informed him, taking another sip of coffee as if the announcement was no big deal.

Michael inhaled sharply. "No."

"Yes, Mikey," Gabriel snapped at him. "This isn't a debate. That kid needs to be returned to his family, and you are more than capable of making your own vessel with my help."

"It is wrong," Michael hissed at him. "It goes against the design our Father created, especially for the archangels!"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I swear, you and Lucifer both are just so caught up in the rules and how things have to happen because so and so decreed it to be in the year whatever. Seriously? You need a new body, and together we can make one. I don't see the problem. You'll be powerless for a few days, but consider it motivation once you can get back to grace hunting. I sure as hell felt the pain of our brothers a lot more once I'd drained myself into Sam. It's a learning experience."

Michael seemed to be considering the idea, but his next question was an attempt to change the subject. "Why did you offer your grace to the younger Winchester? I would not have thought the matter would be your concern."

Gabriel bristled slightly at that. "Because he deserved it," was his only reply. "You're avoiding the matter at hand."

"Create a vessel," Michael repeated slowly, reluctantly. "Father would not be pleased."

"Father has been gone a long time," Gabriel retorted. "You need a new vessel, and one we make is going to last a hell of a lot longer than the extra Winchester kid will."

Michael nodded in agreement. "I suppose you are right," he mused. "I do not like the idea though."

"Really, I would've never guessed," Gabriel said sarcastically. "It doesn't matter whether or not you like it. Aside from a few days powered down, there's not a lot to lose here, and there's a lot to gain. For one, Dean and Sam will trust you a lot more if they get their brother back."

"Dean already accepted my apology for my actions during the apocalypse, but I will agree with you that that alliance would be further strengthened by the return of Adam." Michael nodded as he considered his brother's words.

"While we're on the subject of apologies," Gabriel added, "You need to apologize to Sam. It'll go a long way."

"For the apocalypse?" Michael asked absently, still dwelling on Gabriel's previous statement.

Gabriel hadn't exactly wormed Sam's problem out of him that morning, but he had a good idea what it was. "No, he gets the whole wrong actions, right reasons deal you've got going on. You need to apologize for the cage."

Michael froze, and slowly returned his entire attention to Gabriel in shock. "I see."

"Sam deserves that from you," Gabriel said firmly.

There was a long silence before Michael responded. "You are right, brother. This is one of my mistakes I must make amends for."

There was a lot Gabriel wanted to say in response to that. Things about how Sam's actions in saving the world weren't cause for Michael's wrath in the cage. He kept it to himself though, and merely gave his brother a tight nod. "Good. Now let's figure out where we're making this body of yours. Somewhere out of the way, preferably. We'll be expelling a lot of energy."

* * *

"What are you researching?" Charlie asked curiously, looking over Sam's shoulder at his laptop. They were back in the hotel room after breakfast, and Sam was making full use of the free high speed internet.

"Doorways to Hell," He replied absently, typing in another set of criteria and relaunching his search.

There was a pause, then Charlie slowly asked, "Any particular reason?"

"There's got to be one nearby, and I'd like to get there as soon as I can." Sam answered, clicking on a new link.

"Uh-huh." Charlie took a seat across the table and stared at Sam until he looked up at her.

"What?" He asked, his eyebrows crinkling.

"Doorway to Hell?" Charlie asked accusingly. "What the frack, Sam?"

Sam rolled his eyes at her. "Relax, Charlie."

"I need a little bit more of an explanation," She retorted. "Normal people don't just go marching around looking for ways to get into Hell!"

"The way I got in last time isn't an option anymore," He replied. "There's other more direct doorways, but finding them is tricky. Besides, since when do I fall into the category of normal?"

"Point," she allowed. "Why'd you go to Hell last time? I'm assuming this is since your internment with Heaven's best and brightest?"

Sam's lips twitched at her phrasing. "Yeah. I freed an innocent soul as part of a set of trials. The way I got in though was kind of a back door, and the guy with the key is dead. Hence the research."

"Why'd you take the backdoor last time if you knew there were front doors?" Charlie asked curiously.

"Last time I was more invested in keeping under the radar," Sam admitted. "This time I know that the Queen is expecting me to show up at some point, so I figured that hiding isn't going to do me much good."

Charlie sighed dramatically and propped her feet up. "Okay, I thought the mission was to find angels, but you're trying to find a way into Hell. What's going on?"

Sam pursed his lips. "Hell is my mission. The angels are important, but there's someone in Hell that I'm responsible for, and I need to save."

"Who?" Charlie asked, eyes narrowing.

Sam huffed at her and rubbed his forehead. "Crowley. I started to cure him as part of the trials I was doing, so he's mostly human now. It's my fault Abaddon captured him and that he's basically helpless, so I'm going to rescue him. In theory, at least. I'm still figuring that part out."

"Abaddon's the Queen?" Charlie checked.

"Yeah, since a few weeks ago. Crowley was King before that," Sam informed her.

Charlie nodded slowly. She was very grateful to that Carver Edlund guy for writing at least some of the boys' history down for her, or she'd be way more lost than she already was. At the very least, she knew who Crowley was, so that was something. "How come you're the only one who's on this mission?"

"He's still technically a demon," Sam admitted. "We don't make a habit of rescuing demons. I just feel like it's the right thing to do."

Another pause was filled only by Sam's typing before Charlie responded with, "Good for you."

Sam smiled at her warmly. "Thanks, Charlie."

They sat in comfortable silence after that, Sam with his research and Charlie with her thoughts. She had trouble remembering a time before monsters now, a time before the Winchesters. Even her brief reprieve from them after the Dick Roman incident had been plagued with thoughts of them and the things they fought. At least now she was on their speed dial. Somehow, she almost didn't mind knowing about the monsters, as long as she got to have Sam and Dean too. It was easier to bear the dark when she knew that the dark had something to be afraid of too.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note:**

**All right, guys, this chapter is a little different. I'm gearing up for much larger developments in plot, and this chapter is primarily groundwork for the future. You all have been awesome, so thanks for sticking with me this far!**

**Thanks to Le'letha, FireChildSlytherin5, keacdragon, and DwellInDreams1019 for their reviews on chapter 17!**

* * *

**Chapter 18 - Scarce To Be Counted**

The Roadhouse has a larger and more extensive clientele after its destruction than it ever had had on Earth. It looked a little bit different than it had on Earth too, largely because of the elaborate computer set up in the corner and the massive television along the wall. There were also several large sofas that had been shoved into a semi circle around the television. The sofas were rarely devoid of visitors, and anybody who wasn't actively watching the television was at the bar. None of the Roadhouse regulars went back home anymore, because they would all much rather be together, and to be together meant being at the Roadhouse.

"ASH!" Ellen yelled from the bar. "GET OVER HERE AND FIX THE DAMN TV!"

The figure with the mullet hovering over the computer systems stood up with a groan and cracked his back. "What'd you do to it this time?" He complained as he meandered over to the flatscreen.

"Nothing, I swear," Jo protested, holding her hands up innocently. "It's just fritzing again."

Ash started muttering under his breath, but nobody could tell what he was saying.

Ellen rolled her eyes at him and threw a towel over her shoulder out of habit. This version of Harvelle's Roadhouse didn't need cleaning anymore, but she couldn't help wiping down the counters anyway.

"Ellen, another beer?" John asked, setting down his empty glass. At the look on Ellen's face he shrugged. "What? It's not like I can get drunk anymore."

"Humor him, Ellen," Mary offered apologetically. "These boys all seem to think that beer is as nutritious as water."

"You say that like it ain't true," Bobby protested from the sofa, where he had a beer in one hand and the other arm wrapped around Karen.

Mary and Ellen exchanged exasperated looks with each other, and Mary moved to take the seat beside Karen, giving her hand a small squeeze as she sat.

"M'kay, think it's back," Ash muttered, flicking a wire with his fingers. "Not sure what's causing it, but it's okay now I guess."

"Then take a seat, boy," Bill instructed, moving across the room the join his wife Ellen by the bar. "We don't want to miss anything and your hair's blocking the screen."

"Oh now, be nice to him!" Pam rebuked him, scooting over to make room for Ash beside her. "You're just jealous cause he has hair." She grinned, taking the sting out of her words.

Bill rolled his eyes as Ellen patted his arm soothingly. "I'm not bald, Pamela," he corrected her.

"Would you idjits shut up?" Bobby griped. "I wanna hear what's going on. What's the point in Ash hooking up this damn thing if we're just going to talk over it all the time?"

"You know how folks get, Bobby," Rufus said in commiseration. "Just can't shut up sometimes. Don't worry, I get you."

Bobby made a face at his friend, but didn't respond.

The rest of the room made their way to a seat somewhere, although it took several more drink orders and shouts for people in the back room to make their way to the television.

Once everybody was seated, there were eleven people crowded together on the available seats. Bill and Ellen were sitting together, with Jo on the floor resting against her dad's legs. John and Mary were together, with Mary next to Karen, who was sitting with Bobby. Rufus managed to wedge himself in next to Bobby, which left the remaining sofa to Ash, Pamela, and Annie. Pamela and Annie had ended up being good friends, and both enjoyed giving Bobby grief, which was a pastime he reluctantly put up with.

Like usual though, the main pastime for the Roadhouse regulars was the television, which Ash had just turned the volume up on. "All right, ya'll, shut up!" He called, clicking the volume a few ticks higher.

He messed with the remote until he found the setting he wanted and the picture became clear. It was Dean, fast asleep on a motel couch with his arm around Castiel.

"Has he said something yet? Did I miss that?" Mary asked, worried.

"Nah, they had a sort of conversation before they fell asleep," Rufus told her, "but nothing big. Just more 'I care about you' stuff, same as usual."

Mary huffed. "What's taking him so long?"

John rubbed a hand over her arm, grinning at her frustration. "Relax, sweetheart. He'll figure it out eventually. I'd say the cuddling thing is progress, wouldn't you?"

"I suppose," Mary reluctantly agreed.

"It's more than they were doing before, that's for sure," Bobby huffed. "I used to hate the staring."

"Tell me about it," Pam deadpanned. "Castiel's got a killer stare."

There was a pause before everybody cracked up. Most of the Roadhouse regulars tended to forget that Pam had been blind on Earth.

"Find Sam," Jo ordered Ash. "Dean's not going to be doing much besides snoring for the next little bit."

Ash made a face at her but complied, flipping channels until he was able to focus on Sam. Being a few hours behind Dean's time zone, Sam was still up, and apparently having an argument with Gabriel.

"Turn it up!" Several voices encouraged at once.

"...so I don't see why I can't be there, especially since you already admitted that you won't be able to take care of him after Michael leaves!" Sam's voice was frustrated and irritated, and he was towering over Gabriel more than usual, although it wasn't clear whether or not that was intentional.

Gabriel huffed an annoyed sigh. "Samsquatch, it's way too dangerous to get you anywhere near that kind of energy discharge. I promise I'll bring Adam back as soon as I possibly can, and you can nurse him back to health or whatever, but you can't actually come to the barn with us."

"If it's too dangerous for me, how the hell are you supposed to keep Adam safe?" Sam insisted again.

"Because he'll have Michael until the last second," Gabriel repeated. "We're arguing in circles, Sammy, just relax, sit tight, and I'll be back as soon as I can."

"You want me to just camp out in Charlie's hotel room until you're done?" Sam asked derisively.

Gabriel shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much. She already said she's cool with it."

Sam rubbed his face and moaned. "All right, fine. How long is it going to take?"

"Hopefully less than three days," Gabriel informed him.

Sam's eyes popped open. "Three days?" He echoed in disbelief.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "It's not a snap my fingers kind of deal, kiddo. It takes work. Go get drunk with Charlie or something. Lay low, be safe, and stay put. Comprende?"

Sam scowled at him, but nodded. "Please, be fast. Don't get yourself killed or anything."

Gabriel grinned at him. "Worried about me?" He asked teasingly.

Now it was Sam's turn to roll his eyes. "Marginally," he said wryly.

Chuckling, Gabriel gave Sam a little wave before heading back out the door, leaving Sam to brood alone in the hotel room.

"I wonder where Charlie went?" Jo mused.

"She was getting snacks or something," Ash replied. "Saw that part earlier."

"I like Gabriel," Mary mused.

"He's an ass," Bobby growled, the one person in the room who'd actually met the former Trickster.

"He seems pretty helpful to me," Annie offered with a shrug.

"He is now," Bobby stressed, "but that's just because the boys are a good influence on idiot angels."

Mary seemed to perk up with pride at that, causing John to give her shoulders a loving squeeze.

"I hope that Adam kid is okay," Pam pointed out. "It sounded like being an archangel's vessel is no picnic."

John nodded. "Me too. I'm pleased that the boys are so eager to help him, especially since they never really got the chance to know him. I'd hate for him to be irreparably damaged because of the hunting life."

"He already lost his mother," Mary reminded him quietly. "If anything, he's already damaged by the hunting life. Perhaps the boys can heal him from some of those wounds."

"Yeah, maybe," John smiled softly at his wife. They had already had a conversation about Adam and his mother a long time ago, as part of a long string of things they had needed to talk about. The nice thing about being at peace was that there wasn't any real fighting. Mary was as supportive of him as she always had been, and just as eager to knock him on the head when he'd done something stupid. That was why she and Karen got along so well, since Karen was exactly the same kind of influence on Bobby.

"Who wants to bet that Sam will do something dumb while Gabriel's gone?" Jo offered with a grin.

"Give the boy some credit," Pam rebuked her fondly. "He's got a good heart, and a nice ass."

Annie choked on her drink, shooting Mary a look to see Sam's mother looking at Pam with amusement. "Pam!" Annie hissed in a stage whisper. "You can't just say stuff like that!"

"What?" Pam protested, unaffected. "It's true! If he does anything while Gabriel's out of the picture I'm betting it'll be going after Crowley. He found a gate, right?"

"Did he? I was in the back for awhile," Ellen perked up. "I want to be sure to watch that part."

"Yeah, it was an hour or two ago," Bobby confirmed. "Good on the boy. I can't say I'm a fan of the former king, but Sam's got his head screwed on straight about this one."

The signal went fuzzy on the television again, and Ash swore as he got up to mess with the cables. "Sorry, guys, dunno what's wrong," he muttered aloud.

"How long has it been doing that?" Bill asked curiously.

"Uh..." Ash puckered his lips in thought. "Dunno, like a month? Two months? First time I saw it was when Dean was dragging Sam out of that church."

"You're right, I remember that," Jo agreed. "So, your signal got weird when Heaven was sealed off from the angels?"

Ash perked up at that description. "Yeah, maybe that was it. Huh. I'll see what I can do." He dropped the television cables and headed back over to his set up in the corner. It was due to him that they were all able to meet at the Roadhouse instead of being separated by different Heavens. He'd found them all one by one, offering them the choice and bringing in the ones who wanted to come. The people he didn't know he'd come to view as part of a big family, and they all spent the majority of their time watching Sam and Dean on Earth, so they all had that common interest at play.

Ellen had nicknamed their group Team Heaven, and they joked about how they had a crack hunting team with nothing to hunt. There were the odd ones out, like Karen, but everyone was so friendly to her and grateful for her presence for Bobby's sake that she never felt out of place in the hunting group. She was just as invested as the rest of them in watching Sam and Dean, because she had for years watched Bobby treat them like his own children. In her mind, that made them just as much hers. That bond had led to a strong friendship between Mary and Karen, and the two women were frequently laughing in a corner together when they weren't watching the boys with rapt attention.

John, Bill, Bobby, and Rufus played poker a lot, occasionally joined by Pam and Annie. They stopped including the girls when they figured out that one of them always won, so Pam and Annie made off with Jo instead to have 'girl time,' whatever that was. Ellen babysat everybody, snapping out instructions like a drill sergeant and keeping everyone in line. She was also Ash's go-fer, getting him whatever he needed when something in his system was having a snit.

In short, it was a weird and confusing amalgamation of people that made up Team Heaven, but they were a family just the same.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note:**

**I'm so grateful to everyone who left reviews on the last chapter! I'd been planning that from the beginning, but I wasn't sure how it'd go over.**

**Special shout out to obsession-is-my-life, who is an awesome friend and has been super encouraging to me while I write!**

**Thanks to ZoetheSka, Le'letha, LordOfTheSuperwhomerlockians, FireChildSlytherin5, itisnotofimport, jojospn, calcu22, yuffb, princessofd, and True Love's Kis5 for their reviews on chapter 18!**

* * *

**Chapter 19 - Filling The Darkness**

Gabriel had left with Michael already, and Sam would have been gone too, if it hadn't been for Charlie's unfortunate stubborn streak.

"I'm coming," she declared resolutely.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Over my dead body," he said firmly.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," Charlie shot back. "You need back up. Your angel pals are busy, and Dean's on the other side of the US right now."

Sam breathed out slowly, glaring at her. "Charlie, I'm not taking you with me to Hell. It's way too risky. It's one thing for you to assist on a hunt, but this is way more intense."

Rather than reply, Charlie simply crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him, as though daring him to continue challenging her.

"I will not be responsible for taking you into that kind of danger," Sam informed her, his voice wavering just slightly.

Charlie's expression softened. "I know it'll be dangerous, Sam. I promise I'll stay by your side and be super careful, but I refuse to let you walk into Hell by yourself."

Sam's face cycled between frustration, gratitude, pride, and anger before settling on resignation. "Fine. First, I need to get some more supplies, because you're not going in unarmed."

Thrilled, Charlie did a little happy dance when Sam turned away, quickly schooling her reaction when he turned back. "Do you have Ruby's knife?" She asked curiously.

"Yeah, Dean left it with me since the Colt's in the Impala," Sam told her. "The knife stays with me. I'm loading you up with a salt gun and as much holy water as you can carry."

Charlie nodded in agreement, following Sam out the door. "Can I help?"

Sam paused and gave her an unfathomable look. "Just...be careful? Promise me that? We really don't need to lose anybody else."

"I swear, Sam," Charlie told him seriously. "On my limited edition illustrated volume of Lord of the Rings."

Sam's lips twitched in amusement and he nodded. "Fair enough. Let's get ready. I want to be on the move in an hour, tops."

They left the hotel room, taking everything Sam had already prepared with them. He took Charlie's backpack from her and filled it with water bottles, already blessed by him, and handed her a shot gun to tuck inside her jacket. All of the extra rounds went into her pockets. That just left Sam with the knife, but he wasn't unprepared himself. He had salt rounds in his back up gun, though he preferred the knife. Their next stop was Wal-Mart, where Sam bought another pack of water bottles, blessed them, and moved them into his own backpack. He was pretty much planning to enter Hell with all guns blazing, so it didn't hurt to be prepared.

"Okay, so salt isn't really going to hurt them so much as irritate them," Sam instructed as they drove towards the gate he'd discovered. "The holy water is a better choice, because it burns pretty badly. Hopefully we won't run into any higher level demons, because there's not much we can do about them."

Charlie attempted to keep her face neutral, nodding at Sam's explanations.

"Ideally, I'd like to not get noticed, but there's no way Abaddon isn't expecting me to show up at some point. Just...be ready for anything." Sam took a deep breath and pulled into a parking garage, not bothering to take a ticket.

"Aren't you going to pay to park?" Charlie asked tentatively.

"Not my car," Sam explained. "If I need to steal another one, I will."

Charlie heard what Sam was trying to say, that there was a chance they weren't coming back, but she just nodded and grabbed her backpack, jumping out of the car. "Where's the gate?"

"Inside Caesar's Palace, in the basement," Sam informed her absently, double checking his gun before tucking it back underneath his jacket.

Charlie's eyes got big, but she just took a deep breath and shook her head. "All right, how are you planning to get there?"

Sam chuckled at her and shouldered his bag. "I've been breaking the law since I was a kid, Charlie," he said wryly. "We're not exactly going in the front door."

* * *

Dean awoke to the sound of his phone ringing, only to find that he and Castiel had never actually made it into a bed. They were still tucked against each other on the couch, Dean's arm around Castiel's still sleeping form. Smiling to himself, Dean flipped his phone open and tried to speak quietly and avoid jostling the former angel.

"Yeah?" He answered, his voice low and rough with sleep. Castiel shifted slightly and muttered something unintelligible, but didn't wake up.

"Dean? It's Kevin." The young prophet sounded cautious, like he wasn't sure what reaction to expect from Dean. Well, that didn't bode well.

"What's up?" Dean prompted, rubbing his eyes tiredly. A glance at the clock told him it was about ten in the morning, but they didn't exactly have anywhere to be.

Kevin cleared his throat a couple of times before responding. "Two things, both about the angel tablet."

"Is this a good news and bad news kind of deal?" Dean asked warily.

"No, more like two pieces of interesting news," Kevin clarified. "Both of which I'd call good news." The unspoken qualifier being that Dean might not agree.

Dean sighed and slumped back against the couch. "Fine, hit me."

"Well, I found another section of the tablet that seems to be kind of like instructions for a fail safe. Basically, if the angels lock themselves out, it's how they get back in." Kevin explained, sounding pleased with himself.

"You kidding me? That's freaking awesome!" Dean exclaimed, barely managing to keep his voice low enough to avoid disturbing Castiel.

"I haven't translated the whole thing yet," Kevin told him. "I'll let you know when I have something to actually tell you."

Dean shrugged, even though he knew Kevin couldn't see him. "Hey, as long as we know there is a way, I'd say we're doing pretty good. What's your other piece of interesting news?"

Kevin made a noise that sounded like he was excited. "That's just some extra information I deciphered about the spell that caused this. More about the ingredients that I thought you should probably hear."

"Not to kill your buzz, dude, but we already know what the ingredients were," Dean pointed out.

Kevin chuckled. "Not the way the tablet lists them."

Dean sighed again, resigned. "Fine, tell me."

"Ahem," Kevin cleared his throat dramatically, "and I quote, _'For God allowed the gates of Heaven to remain open in order to foster love between His creations. Should either angels or humans render this connection harmful to the other creation, The Rise And Fall Of Angels all is to be the solution. The power over the gates shall lay with he who casts the spell, in the best interests of both humans and angels. Three elements are required, to show the bond between God's creations. The first, the product of a love between human and angel. The second, the power of an angel who brings love to humans. The third, the grace of an angel in love with a human. With these three elements, the gates may be shut, in the hope of protecting both angels and humans in God's name.'_ End quote. So yeah, I thought you might find that interesting. The original language is way more flowery than that - Metatron is worse than anything I had to read in high school English - but that's what it says. I figured you'd want to know."

Dean was silent, and he wasn't entirely sure if it was because he was processing the information or just didn't have a response yet.

"You still there or did I shock you into a coma?" Kevin asked dryly.

"No, I'm here," Dean managed to reply with a relatively steady voice. "Thanks for the info. Every little bit helps."

"Uh-huh. I'll call you when I figure out a way to open Heaven back up," Kevin informed him, his smirk clear in his voice.

"Thanks." Dean rolled his eyes and snapped the phone shut, putting it back in his pocket and letting his eyes drop to gaze at the former angel still leaning against him. So, apparently Metatron couldn't have used just any angel's grace. Castiel was special. That wasn't a surprise, but the fact that his grace had been stolen from him because he was in love? That was definitely a surprise. Dean wasn't an idiot - he wasn't going to even pretend to wonder who Castiel could have managed to fall in love with. He might be stubborn, but he wasn't blind. Even though he knew intellectually that somehow Castiel had fallen in love with him, and had probably known it for a long time, he couldn't seem to make his heart accept that as a go ahead to confess his own feelings.

Even worse, he was starting to feel a crippling weight of guilt descend on him. If Castiel wasn't in love him, he would still have his grace. It was basically Dean's fault that Castiel had lost his grace for good. For all the talks Dean had given to Castiel about blaming himself for things outside of his control, like Metatron's actions, Dean had no trouble blaming himself for Castiel's lack of grace. He sat on the couch, brooding in silence, for another twenty minutes before Castiel began to stir.

"Mmm...Dean?" Castiel said his name questioningly, realizing slowly that they were still on the couch.

"Hey, you all right? We didn't exactly sleep in the most comfortable position," Dean pointed out, quickly masking his thoughts behind a casual bravado. If there was anything he knew how to do, it was that.

"I was comfortable," Castiel murmured back, sitting up and stretching slightly. "What time is it?"

Dean glanced at the clock again. "Almost eleven."

Castiel looked startled. "Already?"

Dean chuckled. "I guess we were tired. Why, did you have plans today?"

"We're supposed to be finding Lucifer," Castiel reminded him sternly.

Dean shrugged. "I'm kind of 'eh' about that plan, honestly. I mean, where are we going to look? I've got a better idea."

Castiel looked immediately wary. "What idea is that?"

"I'm going to teach you how to drive." Dean announced, stubbornly proud of himself for so effectively diverting attention away from the one subject they probably needed to discuss the most.

* * *

Sam removed the knife from the chest of the demon guarding the entrance to Hell and wiped the blood off on the dead man's shirt before sticking it back in his waistband. He'd known there would be guards once they got past the human roadblocks, and thankfully the presence of the demons had paid off. With a little encouragement, mostly provided via blessed water bottle, he had gained enough of a road map to get him to Abaddon's offices, where Crowley was being held. He hadn't been to the office building part of Hell, since the Cage was nowhere near it, and the terrible tunnels he'd traveled through to find Bobby's soul were reserved for different torment. He'd be headed to the eternal waiting in line part of Hell, which was right next to the center of command. Apparently Crowley had set up his Hell that way because watching people wait in line was one of his favorite torments. Go figure.

Charlie was surprisingly helpful and non-pulsed by what they had encountered so far, which was admittedly mild. She had completely ignored all of Sam's attempts to give her an out, and seemed pleased when he finally acted resigned to bringing her along. She'd been made to promise several times to be as careful as possible.

This particular doorway to Hell opened with a spell, and Sam had the counter spell to get back out written down in his pocket, even though he had it memorized. One could never be too careful, especially when headed into the darkness. He faced the doorway, which looked for all intents and purposes like a janitor's closet, and recited the spell. There was a sharp orange glow around the edge of the door, which swung open slowly to reveal a long and boring hallway. So far, so good.

"You coming?" Sam asked, once again offering Charlie an out. He was going to give her every possible chance to avoid this mission.

"Of course," Charlie threw back at him, glaring. She appreciated the fact that Sam wanted to protect her, but there was no way in, well, Hell, that she was letting him go alone.

Sam shrugged, seeming to have expected that answer, then steeled himself and nodded, turning forward to walk through the door. "Here goes nothing," he muttered under his breath. If nothing else, having Charlie with him served as an extra incentive to get everybody out in one piece. He'd certainly be less reckless with her here.

"How far is it?" Charlie whispered, even though there was no one in sight.

Sam matched her tone when he replied, "It's hard to judge distances in Hell. I'd say it's a ways." He gave her an apologetic glance, then kept moving.

The hallways were all nondescript and empty, and only the detailed directions that Sam was repeating on a loop in his head helped him keep it straight. Just walking in the hallways was a torture, and he'd seen the actual blood and gore part of Hell for himself. This part of Hell was newer, since Dean's forty years, but there was no denying that torment could come in all forms.

The one thing that this part of Hell and any other part Sam had visited had in common was the time discrepancy. He and Charlie walked for what felt like hours, days, then weeks, alternating regularly. It was painful to not know how long they'd been there, but Sam had dealt with the feeling before. Whenever Charlie asked how long they'd been walking, which she did often, Sam would give her a firm answer, despite not knowing if he was right or not. If he could protect her, then he wasn't as worried about himself.

It took forever, or a facsimile of forever, but they finally found the eternal line. Sam stopped Charlie before either of them made it around the corner, instead surveying the area for demons. They'd been lucky so far to get by without an encounter, but Sam expected an area of torment to be much more heavily guarded. He was right. There were demons milling around the line, occasionally jabbing at one of the people standing there helplessly. There wasn't a clear way past them, but Sam could see the next hallway down past the endless line of people waiting, and he knew that they were very close to Crowley now. Half of him just wanted to jump out into the hallway and run for it, but that wasn't the intelligent way around the problem.

"Do you have a plan?" Charlie asked, surmising for herself what the problem was without having to look. They were in Hell - what else was it going to be besides demons?

Sam made a noncommittal noise. "Not one that I'm especially attached to, no." His eyebrows furrowed as he thought. "I'd rather not draw all their attention if we can help it."

"So, a distraction?" Charlie suggested. "Clear the hallway and make a break for it?"

"Neither of us is going to be a distraction," Sam said firmly.

"Not what I meant," Charlie rolled her eyes at him. "Let me see your phone."

Sam raised an eyebrow at her, but handed it over.

Charlie began to fiddle with his settings, her eyebrows skyrocketing as she pressed his screen. "How the frack do you have Wi-Fi in Hell?" She asked disbelievingly. She waved a hand at him before he could answer, indicating that the question had been rhetorical. She found what she was looking for and held up the screen, finger hovering over the play button.

Sam looked closer, then rolled his eyes. "No wonder you and Dean get along so well," he muttered. At least it would work. There was a hallway a bit down the opposite direction from where they were headed, and if he slid his phone just right he'd be able to send it down that way. Hopefully it would be enough. "Be ready to run," he whispered.

Charlie nodded, crouching behind him as he thumbed the play button, a loud rock anthem blaring out of his speakers as he slid his phone across the tile and down the second hallway. She held her breath as multiple demons ran past them, eager to investigate, then bolted out after Sam as they took advantage of the distraction.

As they ran, the words to the song started up, echoing through the hallway.

"LIVING EASY, LIVING FREE. SEASON TICKET ON A ONE-WAY RIDE."


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note:**

**I'm so sorry to leave you guys hanging! I meant to have a new chapter out a few days ago, and it just didn't happen. Sorry about that! Most of you have been very complimentary, and your support is amazingly helpful, so thank you!**

**Thanks to LordOfTheSuperwhomerlockians, FireChildSlytherin5, jojospn, Nyx Ro, Le'letha, True Love's Kis5, keacdragon, Akira, Pheonix Autmn, Jesyca12, violeterin, and one guest for their reviews on chapter 19!**

* * *

**Chapter 20 - With Order And Light**

"So, Cas, Gabriel apparently already knew how to drive. Does that mean you've got that rattling around in your brain somewhere?" Dean asked hopefully, his nervous gaze flickering between Castiel and the steering wheel the former angel was seated behind.

"Gabriel has been a resident of Earth for far longer than I," Castiel reminded him. "He probably learned for the sake of amusement. I inherited quite a bit of Earthly knowledge from my vessel in the beginning, but not that kind of information."

Dean had no idea what Castiel had learned from Jimmy Novak, given how clueless the former angel had always seemed about humanity in general. That hadn't changed since he had become human himself, although he had begun to adapt rather well. "Okay, so no driving experience. Great. Do you know anything about this car?"

"This is Baby," Castiel replied immediately.

Dean broke into a full out grin, relaxing slightly. "Heh, sure is. I guess I talk about her a lot."

"This was your father's car, and has been your home for your entire life," Castiel continued, looking around as though observing the car for the first time.

His expression more solemn, Dean nodded. "Yeah, you wouldn't believe some of what this car's been through, but I always build her back up."

"You do that, I've noticed." Castiel noted casually, still examining the car's interior.

"Do what?" Dean asked.

"Demonstrate a faith in things that are broken, that they can be repaired," Castiel explained mildly.

Dean made a derisive noise. "I'm not exactly a man of faith, Cas."

"I did not mean faith in God," Castiel informed him. "I was referring to myself, actually. Sam as well. Both of us have been broken, and both believed we could not be built back up. You disagreed."

"Huh." Dean's thoughtful noise didn't sound like he was entirely in agreement, but he was looking at Castiel with something akin to wonder. "I guess that's one way to look at it."

"In any case, Dean, I promise I will not damage Baby," Castiel told him solemnly. "Not on purpose, and hopefully not accidentally either."

Dean managed to laugh at that, and he clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Trust me, Cas, I'll take the wheel before you can crash. The car's not the only thing I might lose in that scenario. Let's move on, okay? Do you know anything about the car itself, like what any of this stuff," he gestured to the wheel and the pedals, "is called?"

"This is a wheel," Castiel indicated, tapping it lightly. He pointed at the radio, "That is where the music comes from. You do not react well when Sam changes it."

"That's cause driver picks the music," Dean explained. "That's not important right now. Okay, see the pedals on the floor?" When Castiel nodded, he continued with, "So the one on the left is the brake, and the one on the right is the gas."

"Stop and go," Castiel added, smiling slightly when Dean nodded approvingly.

"Exactly. This thing here shifts you out of park into reverse or drive, which are the only two positions you need to know about right now. Reverse is exactly what it sounds like - you go backwards. Drive is the opposite - you go forwards. Park is just that, park. You use that when you're done driving and need to get out of the car." Dean pointed at each individual element as he explained it, conscious of Castiel's powerful gaze on him.

"I believe I understand," Castiel acknowledged. "How do I start the vehicle?"

"Okay, first make sure your left leg is out of the way," Dean instructed. "You won't use it. Next, use your right foot to hold down the brake pedal and turn the key in the ignition. Turn it away from you, not towards you." He watched as Castiel did the movements he'd explained, and grinned when the car came to life with a rumble. "See? It's not too hard."

"I believe I may indeed be capable of this," Castiel agreed. "Before we determine that, however, we should see if I can go any distance without causing harm."

Dean chuckled and nodded. "Good plan. We're on a clear straightaway right now, so go ahead and put her in drive. Keep a good grip on the wheel. Steering should be pretty natural." He'd parked the car on an abandoned stretch of straight road in the middle of nowhere before letting Castiel get behind the wheel, so he was reasonably sure that nothing too terrible would happen.

Following instructions, Castiel shifted the car into drive. He frowned when the car did not move, and turned to Dean, concerned.

Laughing out loud, Dean pointed to his foot. "Dude, get off the brake first."

Nodding with understanding, Castiel moved his foot off the brake, jumping slightly when the car began to move. He held onto the steering wheel with a death grip, staring at the road as if it was about to burst into flames. The car crept forward, drifting, but not properly moving.

"Give it some gas," Dean urged. "You're not going to hit anything."

Castiel gave him a nervous look, then slowly applied his foot to the gas pedal. The car immediately jerked forward, causing Castiel to remove his foot again.

"More smoothly," Dean clarified. "You'll get used to it."

Trying again, Castiel managed to build up a modicum of speed without causing the car to jerk, and brought them back to a stop without too much whiplash. Looking pleased, he turned to Dean for approval.

Dean was grinning. "See? We'll get you into NASCAR one of these days!"

Castiel's brow furrowed. "I don't understand -"

"That reference, Cas, I know. I'll sit you down in front of a race on tv or something another day. For now, let's focus on this car. Want to see if you can go more than fifteen miles per hour this time?" Dean raised an eyebrow and smiled mischievously at the nervousness on his friend's face. He'd never really been all that patient as a teacher - that was more Sam's deal - but he was enjoying this immensely. He figured it had more to do with the company.

* * *

Sam shoved Charlie in front of him, out of sight of any demons who might come back into the main hallway, and confirmed for himself that they weren't in immediate danger before allowing himself to breathe again. He gestured for her to keep moving, and they quickly made their way down the new hallway, away from the blaring music coming from Sam's cell phone.

They both flinched when the music suddenly cut off, and Sam glared at the back of Charlie's head. "You owe me a new phone," he whispered.

"I'll set you up when we get back," Charlie promised.

Sam pushed away his immediate reaction of concern for the legality of however Charlie acquired technology in light of where they were. Supposedly they should be close to Abaddon's office, but close was a relative term in Hell. He knew they were looking for an antique door though, courtesy of the demon at the entry gate.

"So, can I ask you something?" Charlie asked quietly, still moving quickly down the clear hallway.

"Shoot," Sam replied, glancing behind him to confirm that they were still safe.

Charlie almost tripped, but she righted herself before she continued talking. "Okay, so in the Supernatural books -"

"God, Charlie," Sam moaned, cutting her off. "I don't even want to know."

"No, this isn't something weird!" Charlie defended herself quickly. "I swear, no freaky questions about your sex life or Dean's emotionally stunted growth or anything like that."

Sam's lips twitched in spite of himself and he nodded. "All right, fine. What's your question? Hey, turn left there."

Charlie ducked around the corner and breathed a sigh of relief when no demons appeared. "Well, in the books, Hell was always this big scary thing, right?"

Sam snorted. "Don't let the office building deceive you, Charlie. This place is about as dark and scary as it gets."

"No, I get that," Charlie assured him, "but it always seemed to me like getting into Hell was this hugely complicated thing. I mean, there was a ton of stuff that had to happen to get that one Hell gate open after you died."

Flinching at the memory, Sam shrugged in response. "I see what you mean. As far as the gates go, the one we used is totally different from the one Azazel opened through Jake. That was kind of like a giant portal more than anything else. Think of Hell as a really big house. The gate that you read about was like if someone took the roof off the house to let people get in and out. The gate we used is more like the back door. Less used, and less noticeable. Obviously we haven't been flooded be demons, because most of them probably don't even realize we came in."

"What about the way you said you came in before?" Charlie asked.

Sam pursed his lips, considering how to add that to his analogy. "Snuck in through the basement?" He offered.

Charlie chuckled. "Okay, that makes sense, I guess."

"Glad I could clarify it for you," Sam said wryly.

She made a face at him, but laughed. "Hey, I'm a novice, okay? I'm allowed to be curious."

"I'll give you that. Come on, let's keep moving. I'm starting to get a little antsy about how quiet it is." Sam moved forward, taking Charlie by the hand and increasing their speed.

They made several more turns, accompanied by even worse time displacement, before Sam slowed down again. He had no idea how long they'd been walking, but it felt weird to him that they hadn't been attacked. Rounding another corner, Sam came to a sudden stop.

Two demons were directly ahead.

Taking a deep breath, Sam carefully unscrewed a water bottle, indicating for Charlie to do the same. He could handle two demons. He glanced to the left and inhaled sharply when he saw what they were guarding. An antique wooden door. "Found you," he murmured.

Either sound carried ridiculously well in Hell, or Sam was louder than he thought, because both sets of black eyes immediately flashed to the side, spotting the two intruders.

"Dammit. Now, Charlie!" Sam hurled himself forward, whipping the bottle of water in front of him to spray both demons.

Charlie copied his motion, her own movements more jerky and panicked than his. She slashed the water bottle forward like it was a sword, spraying the demons at odd intervals with random amounts of holy water.

It may not have been a normal hunting technique, but it did the job. Charlie was sufficiently distracting for Sam to slit both throats of the demons, leaving him breathing hard and Charlie quivering slightly.

"You okay?" He asked quietly.

"I'm..." She paused, wanting to answer the question honestly. "Yeah, Sam, I'm good."

"Good." Sam patted her shoulder comfortingly until she was able to stand still, then turned to the doorway. "Let's see what's behind door number one," he muttered.

Charlie huffed a soft laugh, and stood behind him as he tried the handle, peeking around her large friend to see what he was doing.

With a deep breath, Sam turned the heavy door handle and pushed, the door opening easily under his hand. The room seemed like a generic office at first glance, and he stepped in cautiously.

"Hello, Sam," Abaddon greeted him pleasantly. "Who is this lovely young thing you've brought along?"

The door slammed shut behind them, and Sam and Charlie were both immediately held in place, forced to take in the rest of the room without moving.

Directly in front of them stood Abaddon, dressed for a cocktail party and looking two parts lovely, two parts sexy, and six parts wicked. Behind her was an office chair, with a slumped over and bloodied man chained to it.

Crowley.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note:**

**Season 9 is almost here! Based on what we've seen so far, I think it's safe to say that my interpretation of what happened after Sacrifice is way off, but hey, I like it, and I'm going to finish it, gosh darn it. Anyway, even if this doesn't come to a conclusion before October 8th, it will be finished, never fear.**

**Several elements of the first part of this chapter are for a friend. You know who you are.**

**Thanks to yuffb, Amnagreile99, FireChildSlytherin5, TheDoctor'sTimeTravellingWife, jojospn, violeterin, Le'letha, keacdragon, LordOfTheSuperwhomerlockians, and Sinthija for their reviews on chapter 20!**

* * *

**Chapter 21 - You Are The Sentinels**

"Abaddon," Sam stated darkly, looking at her squarely with as neutral an expression as he could muster, shooting a brief concerned glance at Charlie before returning his gaze to the demon.

The Queen of Hell was wearing a rich green cocktail dress with a plunging neckline, and her black heels had to be close to five inches, making her about as tall as Dean. Her hair was down, but curled into a soft wave, and pinned back away from her face attractively. She looked lovely, with the slight exception of the silver carving knife she was playing with absentmindedly.

Crowley was unconscious, and looked as though someone had put him through a meat grinder then put him back together. His suit was in tatters, blood was everywhere, and he even looked thinner.

"Sam, I have to say, I am a little surprised to see you here," Abaddon informed him conversationally. "Dean and I had come to an understanding that you boys weren't going to be interfering in my business. Sneaking into Hell qualifies, don't you think?"

Sam vaguely remembered Dean explaining the psuedo-deal he and Abaddon had struck when they'd butted heads over the angels, but he himself had been unconscious at the time. "If it helps, I wasn't planning on breaking that deal. I'm here to talk, for starters."

"About what?" Abaddon asked curiously, the knife glinting as she twirled it.

"Crowley," Sam said, as though it should be obvious.

Abaddon rolled her eyes. "What about the former King?" She sniffed. "He's hardly the most interesting thing we could discuss. I mean, half the time he isn't even awake. See?" She poked the mostly-former demon in the arm with her knife, but he didn't even flinch. "Hardly entertaining. You never answered my question; who's this pretty young thing?"

The question was directed at Sam, but Abaddon was looking at Charlie. The hacker turned towards Sam as much as she could from her pinned position and gave him a desperate look, clearly unsure whether or not to answer.

"She's a friend of mine, and she's off limits," Sam said firmly. "This is a negotiation, Abaddon. I want Crowley, but I'm willing to bargain with you for him. I'm not exactly looking to create a war with Hell if we can avoid it."

Abaddon pursed her lips, tapping the slightly bloodied knife against her mouth as she considered that. "I suppose we could attempt a civil exchange," she mused, licking her lips to clear them of the residue the knife had left behind. "What do you have that I want?"

Sam honestly hadn't been expecting to run into Abaddon necessarily, so he was making this up as he went along. As a result, he was devoid of ideas of what he could offer Abaddon. "I'd imagine you'd know better than I would," he said wryly.

"There's only two things I really want at the moment," Abaddon commented. "Well, three," she amended. "I could do with some tea."

Sam had to wonder if there was some unwritten rule of Hell that the ruler had to act like some kind of posh aristocrat. First they'd had the short British megalomaniac, and now they had the elegant vixen pining for tea. "Sorry, I left the portable Starbucks in my other bag," he snarked.

Abaddon rolled her eyes. "As if I'd lower myself by walking into that place," she scorned.

Tempted to point out that as a demon, there wasn't much lower she could go, Sam decided in favor of not getting his face carved off. "Well, I didn't bring any tea with me, regardless. What are the two things you want?"

"To go after the powerless angels and to find Lucifer," Abaddon told him easily, her tone implying that he really ought to have guessed. "I already promised your brother I wouldn't go after the poor little angels, which is admittedly not a great loss, seeing as how they aren't really in a position to do much. Lucifer seems to be in hiding, which isn't surprising, but not something I'd imagine you can help with."

Sam hesitated, drawing her attention.

"Or can you?" She purred, moving forward to the stationary Winchester. She pointed at him casually with the knife and asked, "I wonder..."

"Lucifer doesn't have a reason to come to me," Sam pointed out. "Not anymore, at least."

"Apocalypse or no apocalypse," Abaddon shrugged, "You're still his true vessel. Whether or not you'll let him in isn't important. He'll come to you eventually, I'm sure of it." The fact that Abaddon hadn't actually been present for the apocalypse didn't seem to matter, which suggested she'd already grilled Crowley for everything he knew about the event.

Sam mulled over the idea for a moment. "Supposing there was a way for you to find Lucifer through me, how exactly do you plan to make that work?"

"Well, we're assuming he hasn't got a vessel," Abaddon pointed out. "I think we probably would have seen him by now if he had. That means that he's hiding out, trying not to get involved until he knows more. Knowledge is power, and Lucifer's been out of the loop for quite a while. An angel without a vessel can still dreamwalk though, and I could provide a tunnel into your mind for him. He's not as powerful, so it would help him find you."

"That has bad idea written all over it," Sam griped.

Abaddon shrugged. "I'll admit that I don't necessarily 'need' to keep the previous regime," she cast a disparaging glance at Crowley, "but I don't have any incentive to let you take him unless you can give me something in return. I want Lucifer. Either back in his cage or dead, I don't really care, but I want him off the playing field now. You are, admittedly, most likely my best shot at that."

Sam pursed his lips, considering. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Charlie's eyes flickering back and forth between them. She was staying quiet, which was smart, but she clearly wanted to say something, if the way she was looking at Sam was any indication. Clearing his throat, he nodded. "Fine. You use me to find the Devil, and we put him back in his box and get this over with."

Abaddon's lips twitched. "Fine. Want a kiss to make it official?"

Sam made a face at her. "I know for a fact that you didn't kiss Dean for either of the arrangements you made with him," he pointed out.

She shrugged and grinned at him. "Can't blame a lady for trying," she said with a wink. "Now, stand still while I fix you up for Lucifer."

Sam flinched as she moved forward and laid a hand on his head, though it didn't actually hurt. He could _feel_ something changing, but couldn't say what it was. Whatever the demon Queen did only took a few seconds, and she moved away and flicked her hand, releasing the chains that held Crowley in place.

"There, take your mutant," she sniffed. "I'm not giving a royal escort out of Hell, so you'd better be able to leave the way you got in. If you can't manage to get past anything between here and there, that's not my fault."

"Thanks for your help," Sam said sarcastically. "Can you let us loose so we can get out of here?"

Abaddon waved her hand again, and Sam immediately moved forward to examine Crowley, giving her a furious look when he saw exactly how badly the mostly-human demon was fairing. "What?" She asked in as innocent a tone as she could manage.

"Why didn't you just kill him?" Sam asked, examining the injuries. "He might not even wake up from this."

"That's hardly as entertaining, and the demon that's left in him is sustaining him. He's not exactly healing, but he won't die either. Well, a bullet would probably do the job, but a bit of carving isn't so bad." She examined the knife in her hand as though she'd just realized she was still holding it.

Sam shook his head at her, but lifted Crowley up, moving one of the former King's arms around his neck, and shifting his own grip to under Crowley's other shoulder. "Such a short man should not be this heavy," he grumbled.

"He's stocky," Abaddon pointed out.

Charlie was watching the whole scene play out with a look of incredulity on her face. Despite the fact that she was no longer held in place, she still hadn't moved, instead watching Sam gingerly pick up the man he'd come to rescue, and warily watching the demon Queen who had seemed disturbingly interested in her.

"Charlie, get the door. We're leaving," Sam instructed quickly, managing to find a grip on Crowley that let him mostly carry the man without slowly him down too much.

Turning quickly, Charlie tugged the heavy old door open and ducked out into the hallway, holding it open for Sam and Crowley to come through, the latter still unconscious.

Abaddon followed them to the door and waved, a sweet smile on her face. "Thank you so much for visiting, Sam. I look forward to hearing from you!"

Sam shot her a look and nodded once, waiting for the door to shut before turning back to Charlie. "Let's get the hell out of here," he muttered.

"Seconded," Charlie agreed quickly. "Do you need help carrying him?"

"I'm good. Just take the lead and warn me if you see anybody coming. I wouldn't put it past Abaddon to set up a few ambushes." Sam adjusted his grip on Crowley and started moving, following Charlie down the hall. "Let's try to make it out of here in one piece."

"Hey, Sam?" Charlie asked, moving quickly and glancing around as though demons were going to materialize out of the walls.

"Yeah?"

"Next time I beg to tag along on a trip to the pit of darkness, remind me how much fun this was, okay?" Her tone was full of humor, but she glanced back at Sam, revealing the barely concealed fear in her eyes.

Sam nodded once. "Deal. Thanks for being my backup though." He shot her a reassuring smile.

Taking a deep breath, Charlie nodded once and smiled back. "Yeah, no problem. Let's get out of here now."

"I like that plan," Sam agreed. Now that he had what he'd come for, albeit unconscious, he could worry about other issues. Like how long they'd been gone. Based on what Sam knew from his own time in Hell, it could be anywhere from a few hours to a few days. It felt like they'd been down in Hell for a long time, but time displacement was one of the mind tricks that caused captives to go insane. Sam had alternatively felt like he'd been gone days and years since they'd entered Hell, and he was really hoping that when they emerged topside, it wouldn't have been long enough for anyone to be worried about him.

* * *

The rest of the day Dean had spent teaching Castiel to drive had gone by without incident, and the former angel had actually become rather good at driving. He wasn't necessarily ready to take the wheel for hours on end driving across the country, but he could make it from the motel to the Wal-Mart without doing any damage, so that was progress.

That night, Dean had taken advantage of the ancient XBox system available to rent from the motel office to teach Castiel some new aspects of humanity. Namely, video games. There were only two titles available, but Dean only had to pay $10 to get the system in the first place, so he wasn't going to complain.

When he handed Castiel a controller, the former angel looked up at him with complete confusion. "What does this do?"

"It's a controller, Cas. Here, I'll show you what to do." Dean set the game up and moved back to the couch, quickly instructing Castiel on what each button did, and how to use them.

"So this is a game?" Castiel inquired, squinting at the screen. "What is the objective?"

"To win," Dean said with a shrug. "It's not hard."

"Will this be like real driving?" Castiel asked curiously, watching the animated wheeled vehicles move around on screen.

Dean grinned. "Mario Kart? Dude, not even close. It's fun though. Sam and I used to play this when we were kids sometimes. Well, he was a kid. I was in my teens by the time Mario Kart came around, but if we were somewhere with a decent arcade that had a system, I'd play with him. It's better two play two-player than solo."

"Why does that driver resemble a monkey?" Castiel asked, still puzzled.

"That's Donkey Kong. Don't worry about it. Here, pick a character, then a car. See? Like this. I'm always Yoshi." Dean selected the character, then leaned over to make sure Castiel knew what he was doing.

"Why a turtle? Is one driver better than another?" Castiel rotated through the characters, looking as serious about the decision as if he was being asked to approve nuclear action.

"Eh, depends on the version. Technically yes, but it's not that big of a deal. It's more of a skill and luck kind of thing. We'll get to the prize boxes in a minute. Just pick someone." Dean gestured towards the screen as he spoke.

Castiel considered the characters for a moment before choosing. "I will be Mario," he decided.

"Any particular reason?" Dean asked curiously.

Castiel shrugged. "The game is named after him, is it not? He is clearly important."

Dean had to grin at that. "I guess he is. All right, now we pick cars." The two spent a good fifteen minutes selecting their cars, mainly because Castiel took the decision just as seriously as he had the previous one, and Dean had to explain what all the statistics meant. Finally, they were ready to play.

"Does the choice of track make a difference?" Castiel inquired.

"Yeah, some are a lot harder. We're starting with Peach Circuit, because I want to show you how to play before we do anything else." Dean selected the track and spent another ten minutes demonstrating the controls again, before starting the race.

The cars took off, and Dean was pleased to see that Castiel could at least make his car go, if not particularly masterfully. He was confused by the prize boxes, but once Dean had explained how to use them, he became abnormally skilled at it. Dean found himself on the receiving end of three red shells and two lightning strikes before the race was over. He beat Castiel, but only barely, and neither of them were in the top three.

"I believe I understand how this works," Castiel announced, looking pleased with himself. "Another track?"

Lips twitching with amusement, Dean began to cycle through the options.

"That one looks particularly colorful," Castiel said eagerly. "Can we race on the rainbow?"

Grinning broadly, Dean selected the track. "Rainbow Road, coming right up." He'd always been pretty good at Rainbow Road, which was the source of constant frustration for Sam when they were kids. Sam couldn't make it through a single lap without falling off the track, and he'd been sore about it for years.

The race began, and Castiel started a constant commentary on the pleasing atmosphere of these particular track, and how much he liked the colors. It wasn't distracting exactly, but what was distracting to Dean was how good Castiel had gotten at the game. Just as Dean managed to get into first place, a blue shell hit him and Castiel zoomed past, depositing a banana directly in front of Dean.

Every lap was like that, with Castiel managing to target Dean whenever he was catching up, and the former angel managed to stay in the lead the whole time. When the race ended, with Castiel in first and Dean in second, Dean tossed down his controller and threw up his hands.

"How the hell are you so good at this?" He complained.

Castiel looked surprised. "I had a good teacher," He said simply.

Dean's demeanor changed almost immediately, going from amused and irritated to pleased. "Yeah, all right," he agreed.

Castiel smiled at him softly. "You should do this more often."

"What, teach?" Dean asked.

"No, play games. Do things you find fun. You don't smile enough." Castiel was looking at Dean introspectively, as though the secrets of the universe had hidden themselves away in Dean's eyes.

Self-conscious, Dean looked away, the information Kevin had given him that morning still fresh in his mind. "Well, same goes for you," he muttered, embarrassed. "I like seeing you smile."

The statement itself brought a smile to Castiel's face, and his reached out to tip Dean's head up so they were face to face again. "I suppose that can be something we help each other do," he pointed out.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, this time unable to look away.

They sat there, Castiel with his hand lightly grasping Dean's jaw, and Dean smiling slightly, for a good minute. It was, of course, Dean who seemed to pull away first, ducking his head again and clearing his throat. Castiel's eyes flashed with something unidentifiable for a moment before he adjusted his position, tucking his hands in his lap and sighing softly.

"You want to watch a movie?" Dean asked.

"That would be fine," Castiel agreed. "I am rather tired though."

Dean adjusted his position on the couch and moved a pillow so that it leaned up against his leg. "You can lay down, and if you fall asleep at least you'll be comfortable."

Castiel smiled serenly at the suggestion and nodded, pleased. "That is a good idea," He agreed, shifting down and tucking his legs into the couch, leaning his head on the pillow, practically in Dean's lap. "This is comfortable," he concluded, adjusting his position slightly, still smiling.

Dean smiled too, and reached down to run his fingers through Castiel's hair almost absentmindedly. "Good, I'm glad." He switched the television into the mode for cable, turning the volume down in case Castiel did fall asleep. He flicked through the channels until he found one that was playing Indiana Jones, and settled on that. "This is a good one," he commented.

"Is that not the same man from Star Wars?" Castiel asked softly, sounding sleepy already. Dean had managed to show him about a third of A New Hope at one of their other motel stops, but he had yet to get Castiel to sit through the entire trilogy.

"Yep, same guy." Dean confirmed. It amused him that Castiel had an eye for that. It wasn't the first time he'd identified the same actor in different things, and it was something that reminded Dean of Sam. His brother had always had a brain for that stuff.

"Are any of the others in this film?" Castiel asked curiously.

"Not that I know of," Dean said with a shrug. "I could be wrong though. Ssh, just watch. Or fall asleep, whichever."

Castiel chuckled lightly and snuggled minutely closer to Dean, sighing softly. "In case I do fall asleep, good night, Dean."

"Night, Cas." Dean continued to run his fingers through the former angel's hair, relishing the way Castiel inclined towards his touch without even realizing it. "Sleep well."


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note:**

**Well, it won't be done before the show, but it will be finished, so onwards and forwards. I've got a plan I'm happy with, and it's turning out well!**

**Thanks to jojospn, FireChildSlytherin5, gypsymooneysgirl7733, Isa-Just-Me, theconsultingtardisbananaanagel, and one guest for their reviews on chapter 21!**

* * *

**Chapter 22 - Silent And Sure**

Sam was exhausted. When Charlie was nervous, she hummed, and since leaving Abaddon's chambers the hacker had managed to hum her way through Queen's greatest hits and what Sam was estimating was about half of an ABBA album before she switched to video game themes. They had had to stop twice so far to fend of demon attacks, with Sam guarding both the unconscious Crowley and Charlie. Granted, Charlie was fully capable of defending herself, but as she had expressed to Sam, fighting nerds with fake swords is a lot different from being attacked by demons. So far everybody was in one piece, but it was slow going. Plus, Crowley was heavy, and Sam couldn't exactly pass him off to Charlie when he felt tired. So, Sam was exhausted, but they kept moving.

He was positive that they'd been following the route they took to get to Abaddon's office in the first place, but it seemed to be taking longer. Of course, Sam knew that his perception of time was way off, but something was different about the return trip.

"Ugh."

Charlie whirled around. "Was that you or the corpse?"

"Not dead yet, darling," Crowley grumbled sullenly, shifting his weight against Sam. As soon as he realized who he was leaning on, his entire demeanor changed. "Sam!" He exclaimed, his expression clearly indicating that he was pleased to see the youngest Winchester, which was a foreign concept to Sam.

"Hey, Crowley, you okay?" Sam asked, concerned. He stopped and leaned Crowley up against the wall, holding him for support. "You're kind of...in pieces, I guess. Abaddon really did a number on you."

"You came for me." Crowley's tone was some odd mix between genuine surprise and smug assurance, as though he'd known it all along, but was shocked to have been right.

Sam eyed him for a brief second before nodding. "Yeah. I figured that was the right thing to do."

"Course you did." Crowley rolled his eyes, then winced. "I apparently don't heal particularly well as a mostly human." He glared at Sam, as though it was all his fault, though it arguably was.

Sam gave me a skeptical look. "Are you seriously expecting me to apologize for that?"

"No." Crowley shook his head. "You saved me from the Hell Bitch that stole my throne, so I'd wager we're even for now."

"Sorry," Charlie raised her hand. "Can we keep moving? I'd rather not be stationary targets for the evil attack squad."

"Brilliant idea," Crowley addressed her wryly. Turning back to Sam he asked, "Who's the ginger?"

"Friend of mine," Sam told him firmly. "Are you okay to keep moving? You're pretty smashed up. Frankly, I'm surprised you're awake, much less talking."

Crowley winced as he shifted himself into a more standing position. "It's all relative, Moose. What's left of me that's demon is attempting to keep me together."

"Abaddon did say something along those lines," Sam acknowledged. "So, can you walk, or do I need to keep dragging you down these never ending hallways?"

Crowley shrugged, then winced again. "Well, you could do that, or we could just take the shortcut."

Sam stared at me, expression blank. "There's a shortcut?" He demanded, his voice low.

"You really think I'd force myself to navigate this labyrinth? Besides, the Queen of whores will try and keep you trapped down here if she can." Crowley scoffed at him. "Two more turns and you ought to be there. It's sort of a mini portal, if you like. It should still work, given I'm not fully human."

"Great, I like that plan," Charlie nodded, expression brightening considerably.

"Shortcut sounds good to me too," Sam agreed. "Let's get a move on before Abaddon decides to keep us here permanently."

* * *

Gabriel knew there was something up when Charlie's room at the hotel had been checked out of. He knew there was something weird when the clerk informed him that 'Miss Bradbury' had left all of her luggage at the hotel, having paid for it to be looked after. He knew something was wrong when the clerk further informed him that that had been three days ago - right after Gabriel had left with Michael.

Michael himself was sitting in the local hospital beside Adam's bed, guarding him. They weren't exactly expecting anyone to come after the kid, but Michael refused to leave him alone, and Gabriel figured he might as well leave them in the same place while he found Sam. Unfortunately, the younger Winchester had proven himself highly predictable in being incapable of doing what he was told, namely staying put. Gabriel had expected to return and hear a lecture about how Adam was unsurprisingly unconscious, or how Michael looked freakishly like a young John Winchester. Gabriel had admittedly tried to talk him out of that particular cosmetic choice, but his brother had expressed a preference for something familiar. At least the vessel wasn't a carbon copy. Nothing would freak the Winchesters out more than seeing their twenty-something father walking around.

So, Gabriel was minus both Sam and Charlie, and plus an unconscious half-Winchester and de-powered angelic pseudo-Winchester. He found himself nostalgically remembering the days when his entire life didn't revolve around the Winchesters in some way. Of course, back then he'd also been lacking a true purpose and any connection to his family, so maybe having Sam and Dean in his life wasn't all bad.

Of course, Gabriel had to find Sam again before the kid did something heinously stupid, or he'd have an angry Dean Winchester riding his ass, which was never something to look forward to. That led him to call Dean, hoping that he'd heard something from Sam during Gabriel's leave of absence.

"Hello?" Castiel's deep voice answered the phone.

"Cas?" Gabriel was surprised. "Why are you answering Dean-o's phone?"

"My understanding is that he believes answering his telephone while watching Star Trek is a cardinal sin. I have tried informing him otherwise, but did not seem to make a lasting impression." Castiel informed him gravely.

Gabriel had to laugh out loud as Dean loudly protested the statement in the background, apparently snatching the phone out of Castiel's hands.

"Who the hell are you telling that crap to, Cas?" Dean scolded.

"It's me," Gabriel prompted.

Dean's eye roll was practically audible. "Great. That's all I needed." There was a pause, then suddenly Dean's entire demeanor changed. "Wait, how'd it go? How's Adam?"

"Adam is unconscious," Gabriel admitted. "He's stable though, and Michael, who's fine by the way, thinks he should recover fully. Maybe some side effects from his time down under, but he should be a lot better off than Sam was."

"Good, that's good." Dean mused, pausing for a moment. "So...okay, just, please tell me Michael doesn't look like me?" He rushed the sentence out. "Or Adam?" He added after a second of thought.

Gabriel snorted. "He doesn't look like you. Or Adam."

"Thank God for small favors," Dean muttered.

Gabriel briefly considered just giving Dean the 'Michael looks a little bit like your dad did in the 70s' talk right then, but decided it would probably be worth the look on his face to wait until the next time they were all together.

"I was calling to ask if you'd heard from Sam in the last few days," Gabriel informed Dean, swiftly directing the subject towards his actual concern.

"Uh...no, actually, I haven't." Dean sounded as though he was just realizing that, and the idea bothered him. "What was he doing while you were with Michael?"

"He was supposed to be at the hotel with Charlie," Gabriel grumbled. "He's not though, shocker. I just wondered if he might have checked in with you at all."

Dean made an irritated noise. "No, he didn't, and I didn't call him either. Cas and I have been busy doing stuff for the last few days."

Distracted in spite of himself, Gabriel had to ask, "What kind of stuff?"

"I have become quite proficient behind the wheel of both real and computer generated automobiles," came Castiel's voice. The phone must have been on speaker.

"You taught him how to drive?" Gabriel asked, grinning.

"Among other things," Dean bristled. "Anyway, we were worrying about my brother?"

"Yeah, worrying might be appropriate," Gabriel admitted. "Where would he have gone? He wanted to be here when I came back with Adam."

"Perhaps he went to Hell," Castiel suggested.

There was dead silence, then Dean and Gabriel groaned in unison.

"Fantastic," Gabriel griped. "How are we supposed to get him back?"

"How would he have even got in?" Dean asked, puzzled.

"There's a gate here in Vegas," Gabriel admitted. "It's a little one. My guess is that's what Sam went for. It would be the perfect kind of easy, no casualties access he needed."

"Dammit." Dean swore. "Can you find him?"

"I'm not exactly running on full power," Gabriel reminded him sourly. "I've saved two Winchesters since I've been back, and both times its left me powerless."

"We appreciate your sacrifice, Gabriel," Castiel interjected quickly. "However, Dean's point was merely that you are in the best geographical position to locate Sam, given that he entered Hell from Nevada."

"Hypothetically," Dean pointed out. "He could be fine, and we could be overreacting." There was a pause, then all three of them sighed. "We should be so lucky, right?" Dean said wryly.

"You guys are trouble magnets," Gabriel griped. "I'm going to go check out the gate, and see if there's anything I can do without my grace. I'll keep you guys updated."

"You'd better," Dean said firmly.

* * *

It had been a very long time since Michael had kept a silent vigil, and he found himself appreciating the stillness and peace of it. It was also the first time in a long time that he had felt completely and utterly sure of his course. Gabriel's urges regarding what was right in taking care of Adam had been right, and Michael was pleased to once again have a brother willing to stand up to him and help guide his path.

In Heaven, Lucifer had been that brother, long ago. When Lucifer had turned against God, however, Michael had lost the one who had challenged him most. Raphael would always go along with him, and Gabriel tended to stay out of any conflicts when he could avoid it. In truth, Michael and Gabriel had never been particularly close, but Gabriel's flight after Lucifer's fall ensured that the relationship would never truly grow. Now, in their weakened states and need to band together to save their family, Gabriel was easily the closest thing Michael had to a friend.

It was these things that Michael contemplated as he watched over Adam, who had never really had a chance to know the family he had. His mother had been taken from him by monsters, as had his own life, and the creatures of the night had never allowed him to truly have a father. The brothers who would have claimed him as their own had not had the chance to save him, and as a result, Adam had been alone. At the time, Michael had considered it a necessary sacrifice for the greater good.

Now, he knew better. In part, it was simply being inside Adam's mind. For a youth that barely knew his brothers, the confidence Adam had in them to save the world was staggering. Even more so when one took into account how little Adam truly knew of what was happening to him. It had taken a while for Michael to realize his mistakes, and even longer to focus on fixing them. Adam had been protected from Lucifer's wrath primarily by the fact that Lucifer wanted to take his anger out on Sam. Michael had been furious at Sam as well, in the beginning, but he had pulled himself out of that state of mind and begun to reevaluate his position. That had been when he'd stopped punishing Sam and started protecting Adam. It gave him a purpose, to guard the soul, and it was something he had confidence he could do. Sam was, regrettably, too damaged for Michael to even dream of helping.

Michael decided that he felt truly sorry for that. When he next saw Sam, he owed it to him to apologize for what his decisions had wrought, from the pursuit of the brothers as vessels to the torment Sam had suffered in the cage. That choice came to him along with the realization that it was also a result of Gabriel's influence. For an archangel who had spent a majority of Earth's existence pretending to be a pagan god, Michael found that his brother had a great deal of wisdom.

To be able to contemplate in the silence was refreshing, as was the steady beep of the monitor that indicated Adam's heart beat. Michael had succeeded in protecting the youth, and had been given some semblance of a chance to redeem his mistakes. Perhaps this time he could truly make his father proud.


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note:**

**See? Told you! New chapter, even though season 9 already started. IT WAS AWESOME. No spoilers, in case you haven't seen it, but IT WAS AWESOME.**

**Thanks to FireChildSlytherin5, Isa-Just-Me, jojospn, Le'letha, Akira, and Keacdragon for their reviews on chapter 22!**

* * *

**Chapter 23 - Keeping Watch In The Night**

Gabriel glared impressively at the unassuming doorway to Hell, flipping the phone Sam had procured for him back and forth in his hands. He'd already tried calling the hunter, which predictably hadn't worked. Now, he had to decide what his next course of action would be. The problem with entering Hell himself was that he wasn't prepared for battle, and didn't have nearly enough of his grace to enter Hell without weapons. In the time it would take him to prepare to enter Hell, any number of things could have happened to Sam.

Honestly, Sam had already been gone for three days, not to mention the time between when Gabriel had discovered him missing to his now useless vigil at the gateway inside the casino. The odds of him even finding Sam if he entered Hell were relatively slim, since it was kind of a big place, and Gabriel also wasn't particularly keen to advertise his location to the demonic hordes in the pit. Of course, that was being worried for his own skin, and he was sufficiently concerned about Sam that his own safety shouldn't have been an issue.

Gabriel was about a half second from uttering the incantation and barging into Hell half-cocked when the phone in his hand rang. His mouth was open to speak the first syllable, and it took him another half second to close it and actually look down at his phone. It was an unrecognized number, which meant it wasn't Sam, Dean, or Castiel, the only numbers he actually had.

"Hello?" He answered, figuring it was worth a shot.

"Hey, Gabe," Sam's voice came out of the speaker, sounding equal parts exhausted and irritated.

"SAMMY!" Gabriel bellowed, backing away from the Hell gate and pacing a little. "Where the hell have you been?" He demanded.

"Were you worried?" Sam managed to ask with amusement.

"Mildly concerned, then yes, pretty freaking worried when I realized that the place you were most likely to take a vacation to was the Pit of Dispair!" Gabriel snapped.

Sam chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. Nice reference."

"Everyone needs to see it at least once," Gabriel muttered. More clearly he said, "So, you were in Hell?"

"Yeah, for about three days, it looks like. Three-ish. My internal clock is kind of screwed up right now." Sam yawned loudly over the phone, then murmured, "Sorry about that."

"Yeah, well, travelling to Hell will do that for you, kiddo." Gabriel pointed out with a roll of his eyes.

"So will overseas travel," Sam muttered darkly, seemingly to someone other than the angel on the other side of the line.

"What?" Gabriel asked, confused.

"Don't worry about it," Sam dismissed. "How'd it go with Michael?"

"Michael's fine, de-powered but recovering slowly. Adam is unconscious, but I've got him in a hospital for monitoring, and Michael seems positive that he'll fully recover. I'd expect nightmares and maybe flashbacks, similar to what you experienced, but nowhere near as severe, and I think you can help him out." Gabriel ran a hand through his hair as he spoke, relaxing as the idea that Sam was alive and well and not in Hell sunk in. "How's Charlie? I know you took her with you."

"Not by choice," Sam quickly pointed out. "She insisted on coming."

"Damn right I did!" Charlie called out, apparently not standing very far from where Sam was talking.

Now that Gabriel thought about it, he realized that there was a lot of background noise. "Samsquatch, are you in a bar?" He asked disbelievingly.

"No," Sam said, and Gabriel could picture his scowl perfectly. "I'm in a pub." Based on the tone of his voice, you'd have thought he'd just announced that he was furious about it.

"Okay...?" Gabriel was confused. "The distinction was necessary because...?"

"Because," Sam emphasized, "Pubs are commonly found in the United Kingdom. Especially in Scotland, which is beautiful, but also a really long way away, and WHERE I HAPPEN TO BE RIGHT NOW." Sam shouted the last words, but once again it sounded like they were directed at someone else.

"How the hell did you end up in Scotland?" Gabriel demanded, bewildered. "You entered Hell through the Vegas gate, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," Sam snapped. "Which is where I thought we were headed back to. The asshole I risked mine and Charlie's lives to rescue didn't think to mention that his favorite 'shortcut' opened in SCOTLAND. I'm having to use a stolen calling card and a payphone to even talk to you right now."

Gabriel had to think for a moment before replying. "So...you rescued Crowley?" He managed to ask.

"Yes," Sam replied, his tone a little lighter. "So far he's being relatively agreeable, aside from stranding us in Europe."

"Give it a rest, Moose," came a sullen growl from somewhere in the background.

"Moose?" Gabriel asked with a grin.

"Don't you dare!" Sam demanded. "I refuse to have to put up with that from more than one supernatural being."

Gabriel laughed out loud. "Fine, Samsquatch. So, you're stuck in Scotland with a mostly human demon and a nerd?"

Sam managed to chuckle at that. "Yeah, pretty much. I know your flight power is a little screwy even when your grace is fully powered, so I'm guessing we have to wait for Michael to recharge before we can get a ride back to the States."

"Why can't you take, you know, an actual plane?" Gabriel asked, his tone teasing.

"Because, genius," Sam replied, his tone implying Gabriel was missing something very obvious. "None of us have passports, and even if we did, we don't have the kind of money it takes to get three people across the ocean on a plane."

Gabriel made a thoughtful noise. "Okay, I see the problem. All right, new plan. You find a place to park and stay there, while I figure out how long it's going to take Michael to be able to get to you. Honestly? I'd get comfy."

Sam sighed. "I figured. Thanks for your help. Keep an eye on Adam until I get there, okay?"

"Of course, kiddo," Gabriel agreed. "Get some sleep, you sound about dead."

"Okay, will do," Sam replied.

When the line went dead, Gabriel stared at his phone for a moment before sighing loudly and selecting one of his three contacts. As soon as it connected, he chuckled slightly and said, "So, Dean, good news and bad news. The good news is that I found Sam!"

* * *

Dean glared impressively at his phone, but couldn't seem to make the phone call he'd just had turn into any other kind of information.

"So, Sam is on vacation for the time being?" Castiel asked hesitantly, attempting to make the situation seem less problematic.

Huffing, Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, vacation. Scotland may be nice and all, but he's stuck over there with Charlie and Crowley of all people, and literally no resources. Gabriel has no idea how long it'll be before Michael can get them." He collapsed onto the bed, face down, and grunted into the pillow.

Castiel moved over to sit beside him on the bed, the hesitantly rested his hands on Dean's back. When the hunter didn't really react besides starting slightly, he began to more confidently kneed his hands into Dean's back. He'd never given a massage before, but he knew of the concept, and when it was called for. "You need to relax," Castiel declared, shifting his position to put more weight behind his hands.

Dean gave a loud moan that would have sounded right at home during sex. "God, Cas, don't stop doing that."

Castiel knew there was a time in the past when Dean might have had some kind of violent reaction against this kind of contact, but that had been a development between the two of them, and he relished it. Enjoying the feel of Dean's muscles beneath his fingers, Castiel decided to take this opportunity to explore.

If the noises Dean was making were any indication, he wasn't planning on stopping Castiel anytime soon.

Castiel moved his hands up to Dean's shoulders, admiring the taut skin and firmness he found there. Moving lower, he discovered the dips and contours of the hunter's muscular back, which he had never been given a chance to truly admire before. He assumed Dean would find any praise of his physicality awkward, so Castiel kept his admiration to himself, allowing it to be felt through his ministrations. When he reached the small of Dean's back, he flared his fingers out to feel around Dean's waist. He decided that there was not a single part of Dean's form that could not be called perfect in design. Castiel began to move his hands down again, until he realized that he was moving towards Dean's ass, and that was certainly not going to be allowed. He paused, and he could tell from the sudden stiffness in Dean's shoulders that the hunter knew why.

"Uh..." Dean coughed slightly and cleared his throat. "Look, um, you can keep going. If, you know, you want. Or not. No big deal."

There was no way Castiel was going to ask twice. He moved slowly, to make his intent clear, but progressed further downward, no longer shy now that he had permission. The tension had bled out of Dean again, and he was moaning once more in time to Castiel's kneading and gripping, seeming to enjoy it even more now that the focus was on his ass. Castiel had to wonder what the significance of that was, but decided not to press his luck. This was the most physical contact he had ever had with Dean, barring the few times he'd fallen asleep practically on top of the hunter. He was relishing it, and did not plan to stop.

"You're really good at this," Dean murmured as Castiel reached the seat of his ass, moving towards his thighs.

"Thank you," Castiel replied softly. "I must admit, I enjoy it considerably."

"Maybe I'll have to repay the favor sometime," Dean drawled, sounding more relaxed than Castiel had ever heard him.

"Perhaps," Castiel agreed, his tone mildly amused.

"Man, I feel like I'm drunk," Dean managed to get out, his words more like a soft sigh.

Castiel chuckled lightly. "Perhaps the sensations you are feeling would not be quite as foreign to you if you relaxed more often."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean sighed. "Tell you what, you can do that whenever you feel like it." He let out a purring noise in reaction to Castiel's hands to cement the comment.

A broad smile stretched across Castiel's face at the words, and he nodded. "I would like that."

They lapsed back into quiet, Castiel silent and Dean making soft contented noises periodically. When Castiel had completed the territory he was massaging, he ran his hands back over the expanse of Dean's body soothingly, rubbing light circles in various spots on his back, reveling in how peaceful the hunter was.

"You wanna do something today?" Dean asked, shifting his head so he could see Castiel.

"I think..." Castiel trailed off, unsure how best to phrase his idea. "I believe, Dean, that today would be a good idea to merely lay together, and enjoy the stillness we have in this moment. When everyone is rested and back on their respective tasks, I do not imagine we will have the luxury of this kind of time."

Dean was perfectly willing to agree, and he rolled over so he was on his back, and tugged Castiel down into a lying position, tucking an arm around the slightly shorter man's shoulders. "I can get on board with that," he agreed easily.

"I like this," Castiel admitted softly. "This closeness."

There was a pause, then Dean nodded slowly, reassuringly. "Yeah, Cas, I do too."

It was peaceful after that, just the two men lying together, not asleep, but content to lay in the stillness. Dean's hand periodically rubbed up and down Castiel's arm, and every so often he would tuck his head just slightly and rest a not-quite-kiss on the very tops of Castiel's hair. For both of them, it was not quite enough, but everything at the same time. It was wonderful to simply enjoy the peace together.


End file.
